Immortal Resolutions
by SeeMyEvil
Summary: After her release from the Volturi, nearly 600 years of service later, Isabella Swan has gone in search of one of her mistakes: Carlisle. She appears on the Cullen's doorstep with little expectation of what is to come.
1. Carlisle

**A/N: Well, here's the sequel to The Immortal Child for those of you who are following Isabella's story. :) Those of you who've never heard of it, I recommend you read the other story first. Thanks very much to psscohort for her beta skills. And all recognisable characters belong to Stephenie Meyer, and her alone - don't be fooled. ;)**

**Carlisle**

I bent my back and crossed my ankles, an age-old symbol of servitude and submission. The fine fabric of my dress rustled slightly against my skin as I moved back into a standing position. My eyes turned from the cracked and mouldy stone floor to the contented red gaze of Aro. He smiled slyly, each side of his mouth not quite reaching his cheeks. There was mirth in the way he smiled and it made me wonder what he summoned me for. I could count on one hand in the past two hundred years how many times he had asked for me, and gone to the trouble of sending someone to get me. I sighed warily before I spoke the words that burned my tongue each time they passed through my lips.

"Yes, Master?" He continued to smile at me for a few minutes; I took this time to try to figure out why he might look like that. And why he might need me. It was peacetime as far as the Volturi were concerned, and it had been for the past hundred years when the plague of the immortal children was pronounced _over_. Purged. There had been few disturbances and none of the Guard had been mischievous—as far as I knew. Were the Volturi in danger? I would have seen that, most likely. Finally, Aro spoke.

"There's trouble in London that I would like you to sort out. Take with you whoever you want, just get rid of the coven in the sewers north of the river." I blinked twice and Aro's smile was gone, replaced with concern. "Can you do this for me Isabella?" Biting my lip, I nodded quickly with my eyes to the floor. _London_. I never dared to deny Aro anything, because in my mind, what would be the point? I would be thrown in a cell for a few days, able to think endlessly on what I'd done. No.

"There's a group of vampires living in the sewers near the northern gates and they're giving too much away. They're reckless. Destroy them the moment you get the chance, please Isabella. Leave straight away." With that he waved a hand in the direction of the heavy oak doors. Pressing my hands together anxiously, I turned and walked out into the corridor pulling the doors closed behind me.

London. The memory of sorrowful red eyes and raven black hair passed through my mind. I stood in this corridor, the stony pathways seeming to go on forever, I felt alone. The hole that had been pressed into my chest gasped, its emptiness suffocating me for a moment. A knock on the door behind me roused me from my thoughts, a reminder of what I had promised to do.

To my left there was an echo of two people talking, Felix and one of the newcomers. They were brothers, these newcomers and had made the unfortunate decision to walk into the tree line while an unruly vampire was following them. He had been destroyed once Felix came upon him, but the boys were near to death. Felix bit them both and the change began. Recently, it became apparent that neither of the brothers—Leonardo and Marco—had any gifts like myself or Heidi. But Aro decided to keep them anyway. It sounded as though Felix was talking through the small window that allowed one to get in but not out. Marco spoke now, his rasping voice begging for blood. Felix replied with one word, "Soon."

To my right, the corridor was soundless. The air was not stirred, and no scents led in that direction. The general rule was to _never_ go that way because it was haunted by an old hag who'd fallen down the stairs many years ago. Someone said that her neck was broken, and her head was not straight on. Someone had said she limped around the staircase that led to the stables. I wondered why I'd not gone right out of the throne room before. Perhaps it was because I hadn't been presented with a challenge before.

So I went right, my feet dragging on the floors as my superstitious mind filled with a vision of myself falling down the stairs and dying. I scoffed inwardly, _ridiculous_. I came to the top of the staircase and looked down, half expecting to see a crippled woman lying at the bottom. _Ridiculous_, I told myself as I put my foot on the first stair and advanced slowly downwards. I cheered to myself once I reached the ground and continued on to the stables.

"Ghosts," I chuckled.

"Where?" Lucian called, appearing behind me. I whirled around, my red dress swishing on the floor as I turned. How had I not heard him? Lucian smiled and placed a hand on my shoulder; he bent his head and brought his face close to mine. His breath brushed against my face gently, the bread smell rushing into my mind. "You ought to be more aware, Isabella. What if I'd been Leonardo?" He patted the collar of my dress back down from where he'd held it and stood upright.

Not to be patronised, I speedily replied. "You know as well as I do that he wouldn't stand a chance against me." He sniggered and nodded knowingly. I'd thrown him down in seconds one time when I had lost my temper. His personality irked me; his smug smiles and furtive glances served nothing but to fuel my rage.

"I know this, Isabella. Just a word of warning," he said before he continued onto the stables. Taking a breath in I looked through the barred window set into the ceiling, allowing cut sunlight to fall on the opposite wall. The image gave a perfect metaphor for how a surprising number felt when they joined the Volturi Guard. There were white clouds floating in the skies, obstructing the sun's rays before moving on. A draught blew into the corridor, pushing leaves through to the ground beside me.

As I stood here, taking in a breath of Tuscan countryside—and equally Tuscan blood—I wondered who I might take to England with me. Who might I share my hellish beginnings with? Ha. Well I had six options. Heidi—who I quite liked for her wit and sharp tongue, she had the courage to say exactly what was on her mind regardless of the consequences. Lucian? Perhaps if I was a madwoman. Felix? No, he's the kind of person who will walk into a room with cannons in tow ready to fire in any which way. Eleazar. He was Aro's ideal guard; he would walk through fire if Aro said there was a dying prodigy on the other side. Or Iago? He was a kind person in himself, his Greek upbringing meant that he was loyal to the Volturi and his friends within—I was one of his friends. The only person left to consider was Corin and I didn't like him at all. He was almost Lucian's twin in that they shared that frustrating vindictiveness.

In my mind, I could only truly consider one of the available Guard members, and that was Iago. I took in a breath and located a new scent left by him; the image that came to mind was a warm Italian night in the woods. His essence led back into the large and ancient house, turning this way and that through the corridors. Eventually my journey ended outside of his room. I knocked twice before his Grecian accented voice called for me to enter.

Pushing the flimsy wooden door aside, I stepped inside. His room was basic, with only a few furnishings. He had a couple of chairs, a bed and a cow skin rug lain on the floor. There were two torches hanging onto the walls and giving the room a swaying, seasickness. Iago sat in one of the chairs, watching me walk to the chair opposite him. Holding my dress I took a seat in the hard wooden seat that was standard for the Volturi Guard.

"What brings you here, sweet Isabella?" he smiled. His golden brown skin had been doused by the vampirism. His eyes were unremarkable except from the clearly well fed vibrant red defining him for what he was. His Mediterranean features were prominent on his face. Iago was the only friend I could trust my life with, the only person to ever defend me from Lucian's snide comments. Iago was the best thing that happened to me since I crossed into Italian territory.

"Aro has sent me on a trip to London, the normal procedure—a few dangerous vampires that need to be reminded of the rules." Iago nodded and rose from his seat, extending his hand towards me. "He instructed me to leave immediately with company. _You_ are my company Iago," I told him as I placed my hand in his grasp. He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and walked us to his door, spinning me in a circle as we left. My dress flew about me, taking the shape of a blossoming flower before it fell again.

"Why don't you smile, Isabella?" he asked sadly. Placing his hands on both of my shoulders and forcing me to look at him, I had no choice but to let my neutral face fall into a grimace. "What's upset you?" He seized my chin in between two fingers much like I remembered Henry had, many times, and I stiffened under his grasp. Willing venomous tears not to tumble from my eyes, I removed myself from his hands and walked towards the stables.

_Henry stopped walking where he was ahead of us and came to take my face in his hands, crouching with the fiercest expression in his eyes. "If you were given eternity with your mother and father, do you think they would tire of you? Would you tire of them?"_

I staggered with the pain of his memory. Why couldn't I just forget he ever happened? Why couldn't he stay where he was, in the airs of England—nothing but ash? Because he was a part of me, his bite had pierced me deeper than he ever realised and I was branded. I could never escape him for as long as I was a vampire. And he would haunt me. I loved him as my father and as much as I may have hated him for putting me in this exact position; I hated myself more for _letting_ him put me in this position. I hated myself for letting him die.

A single tear seeped from my eye before I swiftly wiped it away and carried on down the passageway. Iago's footsteps came short and rapid behind me, rushing to catch me and ask for an explanation. Soon I was at the stable door and grabbing my cloak from the table beside it. Iago's hand shot out and pulled on his cloak from the table, the heavy black velvet swung wildly at the quickness of his actions. I followed his movements as I put on my own cloak, though mine was grey with dust and wearing from where I'd been careless with it. My friend carefully put his hand on my arm and turned me to him, his eyes imploring.

I looked away and begun some sort of…justification for my actions. His hold on my forearm never wavered while he waited. "I was, _am_, upset because there are a lot bad memories I have of England. I can't tell you about them now, but once we get there I fear I will have no choice." I smiled grimly and sent a pointed look towards his fingers, slowly they released me and I went to open the door into the stables.

The metal chinked as I undid the lock and shuffled into the barn-like house. My nose wrinkled as the stench of horse manure and wee filled my senses. Choking, I stopped breathing and pressed my hand to my face, unsuccessfully masking the stench.

"You never get used to that," Iago chuckled at my side, in a similar stance. I shook my head and walked over to my horse, a beautiful stallion that's eyes were as black as night and coat the colour of the forest. He had a star on his forehead and I slowly brushed my hand down it. I'd named him Midnight, a fitting title for such a frightening horse. On first sight I had been intimidated, unable to believe that I would ride something so tall—so high above the ground. But gradually, I had grown to love him.

I placed his saddle blanket over him before I buckled the leather saddle upon him. Next I fitted the reins and I was ready. Midnight was ready. I turned to Iago, whose mare was in the stall next to me. "Are you ready?" I called over the wooden screen.

"Almost, Helena is not helping me today," he said with amusement. The air was still for a moment before he spoke again. "I'm ready now." I grabbed Midnight's reins and led him out of the stable into a small clearing which met with the woodland. Turning around I watched Iago and Helena wander into the grass and sunlight.

A silent signal passed between us as we pulled our hoods up over our heads and mounted our horses. The sun was high in the sky, and autumn remained warm even at the end of October. We would be at the French border by tomorrow morning and at Calais by the following evening. It would be a long trip but with Iago at my side, I was sure I could manage it unharmed and perfectly sane.

*********

_Renita Lilia Swan_

_Loved Mother and Wife _

_Who died peacefully in her sleep_

It had been a memory of what I was doing the morning I disappeared out of my parents' lives that spurred me to seek out their final resting places. I found I could feel no sadness as I gazed upon this simple gravestone. At least she could sleep; she was resting now and would forever more. I only wished this grave wasn't in the grounds of a church that had been Protestant in my time. My family had been heavily Catholic and my mother deserved to be buried beside people who'd shared her beliefs.

_Charles Swan_

_Beloved Father and Husband_

_Who rests here in waiting of his daughter's return_

He was buried beside me.

_Isabella Mary Swan_

_Missed and Loved Daughter_

_Who fell into the wrong hands_

It was disorientating to see my own grave. It was devastating to see my father had been more affected than my mother. But it was downright painful to see it lain down in front of me. I truly had just gone, without even a footprint left behind to show them the way. My mother and my father, by blood anyway. I was an orphan now. There was no-one to rightly show me the way, and tell me what to do. I was alone.

"Isabella, we should get onto those vampires now," Iago bellowed from the gates of the graveyard. I turned around slightly and beckoned for him to come and see my parents. He looked puzzled for a moment before he squelched through the rain beaten grounds of the church. He crouched beside me, looking at the grave markings. I smiled hesitantly, brushing my hands against the writing upon Charles' grave.

"This was my father, and I honestly don't remember a great deal about him. The only thing that comes to mind when I think of my father, is how it felt to hug him. How it felt when he would take me in his arms and tell me he loved me; that was the best feeling you could ever imagine." I wrapped my arms around myself and felt my father's embrace, a ghostly cold crawling over me. I smiled and moved to my mother's grave.

"My mother, I can remember something more of her. Though it isn't pleasant. I can remember her terrified cries, when the moon had fallen out of the sky and all that was left was darkness. She would scream for help and I would wake, and I would shake her awake. When she woke from these dreams she would smile and thank me, I would smile back and bid her to go to sleep. But I never could, I would lie in my bed and I would cry. It wouldn't stop until mother would come into the room and tell me to get the morning water.

"I think she chose to ignore my tears because she didn't know how to deal with them. Maybe she thought I got the dreams she did. I suppose I'll never know now." With a sigh, I stood up. Iago placed his hand on my back and rubbed it in a gesture of understanding. "Let's catch those fiends by the north gate," I said, wanting to forget all about my parents for a few hours.

Iago nodded and looked to the skies, "It's just about dark enough I would say." He took my hand and we walked out of the graveyard, our long cloaks dragging behind us on the ground. The church had been magnificent when I was human; I only remembered this because my father had been upset when I wandered into the grounds one day. The stony church was small, but comforting and the pews had candles rested on each end. The priest had been kind to me when he saw my bewildered expression…then father came in and gathered me in his arms. He took me straight out of there, not a word to the old man, and set me down in the house and gave me the worst telling off I'd ever received. I never went to that church again.

These were just pieces of my human life that I recalled, but in each of them there was a sense of acceptance; I was amazed to realise I did not resent my parents for the control they had over me. After all, it was normal then and it still is now. It's only because I no longer have parents, and I am removed from society by my vampirism that I can see how skewed it all is. Perhaps I'll become a famous philosopher I scoffed to myself.

"Isabella, come along, those vampires aren't going to sit around waiting for us once they catch our scents. Let's go." I was surprised to find I had been standing and staring at the church for goodness knows how long. Iago stood at the gate of the grounds and gestured for us to leave with his hand.

"Sorry," I breathed.

*********

The smell of smoke was heavy in the air, the large group of humans stormed through the streets of London towards the sewer _we_ knew there were vampires hiding. They shouted in rage at what they considered an abomination, baying for blood. And why shouldn't they? One man placed a rag soaked with fresh blood over the sewer cover and they stepped several feet back—waiting. I felt Iago put a hand over his nose and cut off his breath next to me, his eyes darkening with the wonderful smell pushing through the stench of London's waste. My throat burned strongly and I stopped breathing at once. We had to be silent and still while we watched these men taunt the underground vampires.

I could hear splashing footsteps under my feet and then a clink of metal. The drain cover moved aside and black eyes peered above the ground. His expression was filled with hunger for a moment as he took in the group of men, before he raised himself out of the ground. The men's heartbeats speeded as they took several steps toward him, as he stood in filthy rags of clothes. He most likely hadn't washed in months. The vampire looked at the men once more when he turned and ran through the streets. The men gave chase, shouting, "Demon!" "Vampire!" and "Evil" into the night.

I looked at Iago beside me, my eyes questioning him on our next move. Should we leave it to run its course? Or should we attempt to catch the other vampire before he kills anyone else? He took his hand away from his mouth and began to speak.

"You try to catch that one they're running after, and I'll go into the sewers for the other vampires." I knew he would be all right no matter how many mad vampires there were down there, but I couldn't help myself.

"Are you sure you could cope? There might be as many as ten there…" Iago smiled.

"Do you remember Isabella? How I sent you flying into the walls of my chambers?" He chuckled at the memory before he patted my back and walked into the street. "Now go."

Iago went to the sewer cover, jumped to the sewer floor with a splash and pulled the cover back over. I heard his footsteps as he ventured under my feet to where I supposed scents led him. Now, I needed to find the vampire who Aro sent me here to London to find.

My feet were quick as I ran through the streets in the direction of matching fast footfalls. But I stopped short at the bloody massacre left in the middle of an alleyway. The delicious smell of blood filled my nose as I covered it and bent to the remaining survivor. His face was bloodstained and his heart beat with infectious vampiric venom. This man had been bitten and sucked near to dry and he had just _left_ him. Evil vampire. Cruel vampire.

The man cried out in pain, his body was crippled and there were bite marks everywhere. His blue eyes begged me to save him and to kill him for he could not articulate words with his lips. I was stunned at the head of this alleyway, watching him plead for death amongst the dead. There were two men beside him whose bodies were torn in half and the smell of blood poured out into the street, trickling onto the cobbled floor.

He lay on his side, leaning against the wall, his hand gripping to the wooden house. He wore typical woven fabrics, not that they concealed anything much of his broken body. He was dirty from being shoved to the ground in the sewer, his face covered in human waste. His hair, however, was what made me move towards him—that made me want to help him. This man was what I imagined Ransley may have looked like when he was human, perhaps a tad older. The full head of blonde hair and pale skin. Ransley.

"Ransley!" I called insanely, running to him, this man. I knew it wasn't him, but I hoped for a moment. Ransley was dead. He looked up at me and reached out one hand to me, grabbing the skirts of my dress. He tugged on it weakly before he let out another anguished cry. The vampire had left him, just as Ransley had been left and so I was compelled to care for him.

His hand dropped from my skirts and he clung to the wall once again, his eyes tightly shut. I pushed one hand under his knees and one under his back before I pulled him into my arms, cradling him. The man pushed against me as I stepped back into the street and clambered into a small cellar, underneath a butchering shop. I had no better place to put him but on top of a sack of potatoes. He pressed his fist into his mouth and screamed into it, a muffled cry of a dying bird.

I never pitied anyone as much as I pitied this man. I wished I could help him somehow…but of course, the skin was one of the first things to form. But truly, could I kill this man? Ransley's memory was so strong in him. No, I needed this man to live on; I needed him to be like Ransley. Or even better.

He may have loathed our kind for all his life, but humans were under so many misconceptions. Although it was obvious where they might get such ideas from, I wished they could see some of the good we did. Occasionally. Rarely. Such vampires were hard to find, but I was sure he would survive. He had to.

**A/N: Whatcha think?**


	2. Jasper

**Jasper**

_A man with blonde hair in military dress dismounted his horse in the pale light of the moon; the beautiful grey stallion reared and ran off into the night. Now there were four on the path, the man who was a part of the American Confederate Army tipped his hat and nodded to the three women. They were indisputably of vampiric origin and I had no doubt their intentions towards this promising young Major were not good. They smiled angelically at the Major and whispered amongst themselves. He on the other hand was stunned—as most humans were by the beauty of the vampire race._

_The third woman, who was tallest and had fair hair spoke first, "He's speechless." The other two women chuckled to themselves as they studied the man carefully. One leant forward._

"_Mmm, lovely." The second woman whose hair was blonder still sighed at the young man's scent, her blood lust clawing itself to the surface. She smiled gleefully and took a few steps toward the man. _

_The shortest but clearly the most powerful woman among them put her hand on the blondest woman's arm, effectively restraining her. "Concentrate, Nettie," she said venomously with warning in her pale red irises. She then continued to study the Major. "He looks right—young, strong, an officer…" The man was still rendered speechless even after a good five minutes had passed between the three beautiful women and him. "And there's something more…do you sense it?" The woman looked at her companions imploringly. "He's…compelling."_

_A flash of understanding passed into Nettie's eyes, "Oh, yes." She leant towards the man once more, though the other woman's hand never dropped from her arm. _

"_Patience," the woman said, tightening her grip on Nettie. "I want to keep this one." Her eyes roamed up and down his body appreciatively and she smiled. She nodded shortly._

"_You'd better do it, Maria," the third woman said. "If he's important to you. I kill them twice as often as I keep them." She rested her hands on Nettie's shoulders and pulled her gently backwards._

"_Yes, I'll do it. I really do like this one. Take Nettie away, will you? I don't want to have to protect my back while I'm trying to focus." Maria stepped toward the young soldier and reached for his hand which quivered by his side. The man shook with unspoken fear and he couldn't move with his screaming instincts telling him to leave. _

"_Let's hunt," Nettie said, reaching for the unnamed woman behind her and running off towards the nearest city. They spoke amongst themselves in excitement of a new vampire to join their group. The handsome and strong young Major watched them like they were ghosts, his eyes widening in amazement. _

"_What is your name, soldier?" Maria asked him as he turned his gaze back on her. But through the whole encounter, his manners remained intact, it was never forgotten that a woman should be treated with respect. No matter how terrifying said woman may be._

"_Major Jasper Whitlock, ma'am," he said, stuttering over his words. Maria's face changed to one of sympathy when she took a final step towards him._

"_I truly hope you survive, Jasper. I have a good feeling about you." Jasper was still as Maria inclined her head and bit down on his neck. _

It was his face I saw now, on the battlefield outside of Houston almost five years later. His eyes were empty and calculating, the red of his irises indicating the bloodshed of a thousand men and women. He looked at me with confusion, just for a moment, before it returned to the same blankness. His hair was wild and dirty with desert dust. His face was covered in grime from the city.

Aro stood at the helm of our fighting group, a small smile lifting the corners of his mouth. He watched the straggle of a hundred newborn vampires with grave eyes; he would not be fooled into thinking this was going to be difficult. Aro could see the newborns grappling with each other, for as small a matter as a thoughtless look. Aro could see that their attacks would be primal. He knew it.

We'd done this before.

"I'm afraid, Maria, that your battles must come to an end." Maria, whose skin held the same peculiar brown-white hue as all the Elders, was tense. She held herself in a readying crouch and observed our party of thirty vampires, eager for justice, with awareness. She was sure of her fighters.

"Aro, you forget that I have the advantage of about seventy trained, newborn vampires. I don't reckon your chances as high," she said. A smug smile crept up her face before it grew into a wide grin. Her teeth were the same, bizarre white I recognised in every creature of my kind.

Twilight gave the dry desert a bluish light, making the whole ordeal that much more saddening. I didn't relish in the destruction of so many young people; here they were at the start of their very long lives and this was all that was left for them. Because of Maria and her strange war on the rest of the vampire kind, these newborns would die before they had lived. Some regarded the problem with upset, some with great pleasure. Either way, we had no choice but to take part or die. A coward was a traitor.

Aro raised his hand to his face and ran it down the middle, contorting and dragging his features towards the ground—a very human gesture of desperation. He murmured something to himself in an Italian tongue so old, only his brothers would know it. Eventually he turned to us, the Volturi Guard, and grinned widely. We all watched Aro with keen curiosity for a moment before Caius—who'd taken to standing at the front of our group—uttered the words we had all been waiting for.

"Take them."

With that, the impossible flush of bodies moved into a wild bundle of thrashing flesh. There was the sound of ripping and tearing all around me. There was the high shriek of too many young girls, of no more years than those I possessed before my change. There was the silent watchfulness of the Elders; Marcus, Caius and Aro never took part in the fights. And there was me…but I wasn't really there.

My mind filled with a flood of images from around the world, each more insignificant than the one before. I supposed it was my consciousness attempting to hide itself, immersing me in the lives of any other person around the world. Anything but this. I hated this fighting.

_You can't justify killing with death_.

That same phrase a thousand times over appeared, embedded in every memory I had. In every movement I made. This same sentence was wrapped around like the worst kind of cotton, grating and constricting. It smothered me. It left me unable to move because, wasn't that really the definition of the vampiric curse? We killed humans to feed the death that would surely find us if we abstained. So to keep our final deaths at bay…we murdered hundreds upon hundreds of people. Monsters. But I'd known that from the moment I looked into my master's eyes.

My last human memory was the blood red of Henry's eyes. My last memory of him was the pained look on his face as I left him to die.

"ISABELLA!" Iago called from behind me somewhere. I wrenched my eyes open to the frantic struggle of the newborns, their faces frozen forever in terror. "Isabella!" he called again. A primal roar came at me from the right as I looked on. As the child came upon me, I threw them onto their back and swiftly took its arm from its body…and the other. The boy who'd attacked me looked around twenty-five years old; he had thick brown hair and thin lips pressed into a harsh snarl. What a shame that this was all they were reduced to. I wondered if this man had been intelligent or a vagrant that Jasper or Maria had found rotting in an alley.

I took him apart mechanically as I had before, over one hundred times. I flung his head aside from the rest of his body and went in search of Jasper. I wanted him to realise what he'd done. I wanted to show him the savagery we'd all been reduced to. So casting my eyes all around me, I searched for the wild blonde hair and empty face in the madness.

There he was, looking straight at me. But his face wore no blank expression, only confusion and curiosity. Suddenly his head flicked to the side and he ran away, faster than any vampire I had ever seen. He was there and he was gone.

"Isa—!" I heard the strangled cry of my only true friend in the Guard. He was in the strong grasp of a female newborn and had her mouth at his _throat_. I screamed at her and breezed over to them, tearing her arms from around his body before I broke her head in two and threw her onto one of the many fires that had been started. Iago was unharmed and he smiled gratefully at me once I pulled him out of my embrace.

"Guard!" Aro shouted, calling every Volturi member to attention. He stood at the centre of the field, his hand high in the air. His cloak billowed in the fierce wind that had been brought about by the rapid movements of so many vampires. His hair half obscured his face and he smiled. "We have won." There was a loud cheer then before Aro's face turned stony.

"But the leaders of this group have escaped." He grimaced and turned around to face me. The purple smoke crept across the field and fell on the ground like a thick fog. "Isabella, can you see them?" he inquired. I could feel everyone's eyes on me, waiting for me to answer. Could I see them? I shut my eyes and focused on Jasper. My sight had much broader horizons than when I first knew of it. Now I could see anything that was happening anywhere at the exact moment I looked.

_Maria snarled fiercely, her anger radiating and filling the room. She was in a small wooden shack somewhere, and a single candle flickered on a sconce on the wall. Jasper reclined on a bed in the same room, his expression mirroring Maria's in its fury. She profaned madly in a thick Mexican accent and gripped her long brown hair in clawed hands. _

"_I can't believe it!" she snarled, the wooden structure shuddering under the force of her breath. She looked to Jasper, as if he had an immediate explanation on the tip of his tongue._

"_Me neither…" he murmured. His voice was softer than his face suggested and his posture was relaxed. He looked somewhat relieved by something. I noticed a smile pull at the edges of his mouth. Maria began to pace then._

"_Everyone. Everything. Every single newborn vampire gone!" Jasper's eyes followed her up and down the room in resigned disinterest. He expected this._

"_Maria, you must remember that the Volturi have been carrying out such acts and winning every battle they've run into for a reason. They're brilliant. They're trained, older vampires that often have some kind of talent that works to their advantage. We're fortunate that the smoke has covered our scents and that nobody saw us leave." His eyes widened for a second as he realised something before he restored the calm countenance that fought the fury on his face._

_Maria sighed and stopped. Her hands came out of her hair and she sat down on the edge of the bed impatiently. She huffed as she looked out the small window in the room, and then she began to pray. Her hands came together and she whispered words in Spanish. Jasper sat up and brushed a hand down her back in a show of comfort._

"Isabella?" Aro said in anticipation. The smoke on the field had stopped now and the fire was burnt out. True darkness fell on the ground and all was silent.

"Their location is undeterminable. They honestly could be anywhere. All I can see is a wooden shack with a single candle lit inside." Aro's face dropped and he held a sigh as he turned towards his brothers. They spoke to each other in whispers of ancient Italian with drawn faces. I guessed they must be planning their next move and turned to Iago. He looked quite shaken by the whole ordeal and was staring intently at the ground. He'd never been so close to losing his life and it had shaken him. I could understand that. I walked over to him and put a hand on his shoulder, pushing him to the floor to rest. Sometimes, a sit down is all there is for it. But he still wouldn't look up.

He was completely silent and passive.

"Isabella, are there any more fools with complete trust in their hordes of young barbarians? Can we return home yet?" Aro asked. So I cast my internal eye over Mexico and America, my arm still set around Iago.

_A house made of strong stone flashed into view, lights flickered inside behind the glass windows. There was a bed and an exhausted young woman breathed heavily with clenched teeth. A white night dress covered her large body, her stomach bloated by pregnancy. Her hair was dark brown, and her eyes a dark green. The woman's face was red and the blood hidden by her skin flowed quickly from exertion. _

_She screamed then and several women wearing nursing clothes rushed around her. One woman gripped her shoulder and another peered up the woman's skirt, pushing them wide open and smiling. _

"_He's coming," she said. The woman who held the birthing woman's arm steadily looked horrified and attempted to comfort her. _

_Suddenly, there was a rush of blood and still no baby was born. A doctor came running into the room, wearing a heavy black suit and panicked face. He stopped at the side of the bed and gripped the woman's hand before proceeding to shout at the women struggling with the quickly deteriorating young woman. _

"_Push, Elizabeth!" he cried, tears falling from his eyes._

_She grunted then, pushing her child out of her body when she collapsed. She looked to be in a painful sleep while the newly born child cried. It was rushed into another room by the nurses. But the woman named Elizabeth was silent. The doctor appeared stunned. _

Blood. I found myself in need of blood. But the sight of that poor woman had saddened me. Elizabeth.

"Isabella?" Marcus asked gently. His face was deadened by the loss of Sulpicia and he only spoke when he was compelled to. I wondered what compelled him today. Perhaps Aro had used one of his ultimatums on Marcus while I was gone.

"I can find nothing of importance, Master," I replied. "We could most probably return to Italy now." There was a lift in the atmosphere and a cheer from everyone. We were all pleased it was over finally, maybe me more than anyone else though.

Aro smiled and began to speak, "Wonderful news! Thank you everyone who helped the Volturi in our efforts against the brutality Benito started. Hopefully we won't ever have to return here. Now go! I think it only fair that I release everyone from Volturi control." Of course I knew this would never include me, so I continued to rest on the ground beside a silent Iago.

I was Aro's constant prisoner and had been for over three hundred years. He would not let me leave until I found a purpose in my life, so he said. Well, he had taken my purposes so that was a completely unfounded effort. Aro was a cruel man, but he tried his best not to show it. The boon he just handed every member of the Guard was just one of the things he liked to do every now and then—when the mood struck him.

Iago stood up then, and held out his hand to me. The expression on his face was bewildering. He looked like a human who'd just woken up from a nightmare. Desperate and terrified…but relieved. He offered me a small smile as I stood with him.

"I've decided to leave," he said simply. He could not have said anything worse. It was like he'd just handed me an axe and asked me to take off my head with it. He may well have done. There was a kind of floaty, detached feeling in my middle. Like a rope had been cut. Or a tether. Iago watched me carefully now, his eyes wide with concern. "Oh Isabella…" He pulled me into his arms then, his flesh rubbing over the red silk taffeta dress I wore. He kissed the side of my head, just under my ear.

"Isabella, just now, I've realised what little I have to show for myself. What's a few hundred years serving the Volturi worth? Sure I fought in some of the greatest battles our kind has ever known. Yes, I've destroyed thousands of people, human and vampire alike. But, when I faced death little more than fifteen minutes ago, and you save me. It struck me, as fiery and as fast as an arrow straight to the heart. I have no purpose. And I want to find a purpose in my life now." His voice shook as he spoke, quivering with the force of the words that passed through his lips. My eyes clouded with venomous tears, the first in many years…since Ransley's death.

Why did everyone I cared for _leave me_? "NO! You can't leave! You can't leave me here with them. Iago, I am begging you. One day your purpose will walk straight through those dark oaken doors, back in Italy. You don't need to go anywhere. _Please_!" I gripped his clothes tightly in my hands. He couldn't leave me alone here, with Aro and Caius and Marcus. He was my only friend. If Iago left me in the dusty castle in Volterra, I would have no purpose myself. He helped me forget that I was the last immortal child. I was the only person left alive to have ever associated with one of the atrocities of the turn on the fourteenth century. Emily had been my ruin.

"Isabella, let me go," Iago said tiredly. His arms flailed around him as he struggled to push me away.

"You can't leave me Iago, _please_!" I cried again as he pulled himself away from me, the fabrics of his clothes tearing in the process. "No!" He shook his head at me and told me something I thought I'd never have to hear again.

"Isabella, you are acting like a petulant child. Stop it." So I stopped, my movements stilling so immediately you would think I were a statue. Had I ever moved before? Iago had said the worst thing he possibly could if there were ever a time for telling me off. I strived for so many years to remove that part of myself from my personality, after what happened with Henry and Ransley. His insult caused my fury to show itself in full force.

"A petulant child. How many times have I nearly been killed and picked myself up again?! Hmmm? How many TIMES! Then you have one brush with death tonight and suddenly you're all up in arms! '_Oh no, I nearly died, I better go now_' HA! Pathetic." I could see myself reflected in his widened eyes. My hair blew madly around my head and my teeth gnashed as I spoke. I was a mad sight to see and I could feel many vampires turning their gazes to watch the exchange.

"Go then! Leave me! Coward! Leave us all alone. Go find your 'purpose' Iago. _I'm certainly not it_! BASTARD!" He stepped back a few paces, his horror apparent on his face. He was terrified as he turned and ran off into the dust. "I HATE YOU, YOU EVIL MAN!"

Evil bastard.

**A/N: Well? :) Please leave a review...**


	3. Embers

**Embers**

Her embittered smile shone into the dark and cold of the forest. That bright white I'd had to get used to over the years seemed to reflect the light of the sun. The leaves, branches and very trunks of the trees quivered and moved aside, almost retreating into themselves. They made an uninterrupted pathway for the woman I recognised as Henry's only known love.

Her blonde hair was brilliant now; she didn't have to blacken it with burnt wood anymore. Human women's hair could easily now be shiny—in fact it was commonplace. But it was not in the turn of the fifteenth century when I saw her last. The year is 1999, and Aro had finally given me my freedom…so I decided to come back to England. I decided to visit the sites of my companions' deaths, so many years ago.

Her face was heart shaped. Unchanged for over five hundred years, her simple features had doubtlessly wooed many a male admirer. She was beautiful, and that was something I forgot to look for when I met her in Barnstaple. I could see her now, straight from my memory, kissing Henry with all the force she possessed. I'd been fascinated by her.

But her eyes were the most disturbing sights yet. The woman I had seen on her wooden porch in the south…the first vampire I had known to abstain from human blood. Because she felt such compassion for her victims, she'd chosen to stop drinking from the men and women of the world. She had chosen to drink the blood of animals.

She was gone.

She was replaced by something else. Now she was everything I fought not to become. There was _madness_ in her eyes. And it burned as brightly as her namesake.

Her name was Ember, and she had come to avenge her love—for I was surely responsible for his death. After all, I had left him alone in my fury.

"Isabella," she said, her voice echoing off the trees. She moved rapidly towards me, wearing training shoes and jogging bottoms she looked completely at ease. She stood only a few feet away from me then, and her skin sparkled slightly in the dull sunlight. She wore her hair in a messy bun at the back of her head, making the low neckline of her green jumper more prominent. "It's been too long." She smiled again, but it didn't seem to quite fit her face. It was too wide and too open. Not like the shy Ember I knew before.

But it's surprising how much a person can change. "Yes, much too long," I agreed. I attempted a smile in return, which probably appeared as a grimace. Where was the murderous look in her eye from just a moment ago? What of the derangement I saw? Here was a perfectly amicable blonde woman who smiled like there was no tomorrow.

"How have the last few years served you? I heard that you'd joined up to the Volturi…" she trailed off. There was a flicker of hope in her face before she doused it with a cold smile. All smiles. And I severely doubted she wanted to chit chat. But I would go along with her charade; the point of the discussion would find its way out soon.

"Oh well, you know, lots of death, justice was served etcetera. I don't care to go into it," I replied, a sharp look in my eye. Her lips dropped for a half second. "But Aro released me on Sunday. I can do whatever and go wherever I like now, and I've never been more glad to be free. You can't put a price on freedom until it's taken from you." She nodded then, frantically. Her head turned to the right and suddenly I found myself in the shadowy wraiths of the forest. I felt an icy hand over my mouth then and Ember put a finger to her lips, telling me to be quiet.

There was the sound of heavy footsteps out in the field where we'd just stood. A human man came into view and he slowly sat down on the grass. His hair was raven black and he wore clothes from another time entirely, clothes that were more familiar to me than any young person. I gasped as Ember took her hand from my mouth.

"Do you see him, Isabella? Do you see him! He comes back, every day when the sun is highest in the sky and he watches the horizon. He's waiting for something," she whispered in my ear. Her hand was rested on my shoulder as she tried to steady herself. "Henry is right there. _There_. But he's dead isn't he? Is he a ghost? Or did he escape somehow…? Tell me, Isabella!" She shook me then and turned me to her. The madness was back in her eyes, that wistful half-presence filled her face. She watched Henry behind me, staring at him over my shoulder. She breathed in and let out a long sigh. "He still smells the same." She smiled.

She let go of my shoulders and hesitatingly walked to the edge of the forest. I could see her foot lifting from the ground before she set it down again. She was wondering if she dared to either strengthen or ruin the delusion. Because when I looked to the field again, he was nowhere to be seen and the sky was clouded again. But Ember could still see him. In his resting place, the final ending. The last death.

Eventually Ember took the steps she needed to reach him. She settled next to where he was sat and studied him carefully, making sure he was really there. Of course, I could see nothing, but he was there in her mind.

"Henry?" she said, pushing her hand from her lap and putting it where his hand lay. She looked scared for a moment before her face lightened and she wrapped her arms around him, air. Tears flowed slowly from her eyes and she sobbed in his arms, her whole frame shaking.

"I've missed you so much! How _could you_ leave me like that!" she shouted. "Leaving Isabella and Ransley like that is unforgivable though, they look to you like a father. Don't roll your eyes at me!" She chuckled then, wiping the tears from her cheeks and sitting back. Ember was focused on a single point in the field, somewhere far away. "No, don't go Henry! Don't go!" She stood from the grass and started running into the distance, desperately trying to grip something—anything of Henry. "_NOOOOOO_!" she screamed. Her arms flew around madly before coming tear at the hairs on her head, shrieking ferally at the wind. "HENRY! No, not Henry…don't go…Henry, no…"

She collapsed on the grass as it began to rain heavily, her fingers clawing at the ground and ripping up clumps of muddy green. She kept whispering the same words, over and over again though. "Don't leave me." I ran out into the field and stood beside her as she cried it out. Her body continued to shudder in the sodden, stolen clothes of her victims. Her clawed hands tore down the soaking grass, driving many an insect from its home.

"Ember…" I started. She stopped suddenly, and looked up at me. Her mouth was clenched in a snarl and she looked just about ready to tear my head from my body. Taking several steps back, I held my hands in a show of kindness. I would not harm her if she didn't attempt to kill me first.

"You did this!" She came to her feet then and she tore her hair out of its bun where it rested against her face, pressed there by the rain. "You did all of this! You killed Henry! You killed Ransley! _You ruined everything_. You bloody Londoners! _It burnt down_? Let's build it up again! You never fucking stop! Leeches! Feeding off anything and everything you can get your hands on!" Her voice took on an accent I only recognised from my sole trip to Edinburgh. She came out of nowhere. And I thought this rivalry was over. I'd thought the animosity between England and Scotland had been resolved. Apparently this truce did not reach the older generations. "Do you even regret what you did _Isabella_? Do you feel the tiniest bit of remorse?"

"Of course I do! I hate myself for what I did!" I replied sadly. Her lips curled back from her teeth in disgust. "And what is there to do if the heart of everything has been destroyed? We cannot lie dormant forever. One day, we have to get up again," I added feeling a strange sense of loyalty to my home country. "Do you suggest we just lie down and die?"

"That's exactly what I suggest," she hissed. Her eyes flashed as she fell into a defensive crouch. She was waiting for me to attack her. But I could no more attack her than my own mother. She was part of my childhood, as it were. She was the only tangible piece of my beginnings that was left. Alistair had long since disappeared into the ether and she was right here in front of me. But she was a different person. She was bitter and full of hatred. Ultimately, she was mad.

"But that is simply impossible. Aren't you bored?" I asked her. She appeared offended and let out a low snarl, thankfully masked by a sudden clap of thunder.

"Bored," she scoffed into silence as she stared over my shoulder into the forest. The fury fell from her step and her back straightened. Even as the rain bit down on us and obstructed our views. Even as lightning struck the trees in the forest. She watched something as surely as it were there, but there were no footsteps and the field and forests were devoid of human heartbeats. "He's here again," she murmured. Ember came forward to grab my hand and pointed to him at the edge of the forest.

He smiled angelically and his head of black hair seemed to form a dark halo around him. His eyes were a bright blue, unnatural to any kind of human, which glowed in the dull sunlight. He wore the same clothes he died in, ratty old brown rags which did well in the summer but not so much in winter. He was bare-footed on the ragged grass as he stalked forward. Henry didn't look entirely human, or entirely vampiric. He bore the pale skin of any corpse, but there was flush in his cheeks. He was unaffected by the downpour and was dry as the sandy Sahara desert.

"Isabella, I have returned for you." His voice was similar to how I remembered it, but there was a strange new quality to it. It was like he was a shadow. "I've come to give you what you prayed for." He looked blissful where he stood…he was finally at peace. Ember looked to me then with an exasperated sigh.

"Can't I come too? Won't you give me what _I_ want?" she pleaded to him. He only took his eyes from mine then and stared at Ember with the calculating detachment of a comic book villain. He smirked before he answered her.

"Of course, Ember." He paused. "But for a price." Ember stilled as she waited for the 'price'. When had he become a fiend? When did he turn into a demon? He was not the Henry I knew. "The price is Isabella's life."

Everything stopped. Ember took her hand from mine like it was a red hot iron about to burn off her skin. She hissed at me and looked to the side, where Henry had disappeared from. He no longer stood there in half-presence. Apparently having taken a signal from Henry, she lunged towards me. To which I responded by pushing her up and over me with my legs. I landed perfectly on my feet again, just as I had been trained.

"Please Isabella, I need him!" she cried, with hurt in her eyes. The madness was still filling her face; her utter trust in what Henry said overruled her better judgement. The wild mood swings she'd flung at me were so confusing I could scarcely keep track of what she was thinking. Anger to sadness to happiness, to anger and desperation. But she was mad, that much was certain.

Yet another thing to add to the list of things I was responsible for. Ember broke down in burning tears at my feet, the acidic venom poured from her eyes and burned into the leather of my shoes. She groaned in frustration, waiting for something to happen. An apparition? Divine intervention? _A sign_. Her hands tore from my legs and banged on the sopping earth, her fists pumping the soil to pulp.

"You know, I was only nineteen years old when I was bitten," she stuttered. Her voice was thick and rasping at the same time. Reminiscent and resentful. Happy and sad. "I was such a fool. I knew not to go into the forests at night, but I did anyway. I trod on something slippery in the bushes and next thing I was collapsed on the floor, writhing in pain. The stories told of an evil serpent preying on women who ventured too far into the woods. They said that the snake could speak and it hissed with its pointed tongue, said it offered you fortune and promised of a long healthy life." She laughed bitterly to herself, disbelief colouring her tone when she spoke next. "Well, I guess I got half the bargain, eh?! A long _healthy_ life. Ha!" She sat up and rubbed the tears from her eyes with muddy fingers.

"But the thing was that it really didn't offer it. It really didn't _talk_. Just one wrong step and I was dead. I was never found and I never found myself again until Henry found _me_." Her begging eyes looked up to me then, filled with boundless pain and wonder, she grimaced. "But the strangest thing is that I can see something of him in you. It's like he is truly part of you because he gave you part of himself. There is nothing of his personality in you, don't get that wrong. But his essence is still live in your eyes." Ember smiled and stood up then, some lucidity appeared in her eyes. "And for that reason, I'm hoping that you'll be the one to take my life. I never wanted what the serpent promised. So reclaim it, for we are all born of that venomous reptile. The snake."

I felt like the very breath in my lungs had been sucked out and replaced with pillows. For as long as I'd spent with the Ancients in the Volturi, they'd never explained where we came from. I'd thought they never knew. But I'd always been curious of my origins, and Aro had encouraged it. This was a vital part of vampiric history! We came from a kind of snake…

"Does the snake still exist Ember?" I asked, taking her arms in my hands and shaking her. She looked stunned by my reaction and shook her head 'no'.

"Didn't you hear me Isabella? Please, I want you to take it back! I don't want it anymore and I honestly never have. Destroy me! Please!" She took my body in her hands then and shook me more fiercely than anyone I'd ever punished. "Destroy me, before my sadness ruins me," she whispered.

Extracting myself from her grip, I closed my eyes to everything. It would go away soon if I waited long enough, so I told myself. Back in the sixties I'd wished vampires weren't completely impervious to outside forces. I'd wished I could completely immerse myself in the wonders of drug use. Just disappear, like the humans could. Destroy their minds. Oh, how I'd wished for that more than anything.

Ember seemed to think I could kill her without thought.

"I can't do that Ember. You can't ask me to do that. You are all I have left to prove that Henry or Ransley ever lived. You are the only person I know where to find." She blanched at this, her distaste becoming apparent on her face.

"This is all I ask for! Just this one thing! Take it as a representative of the old world. I have nothing left now. _You_ fear having nothing left to prove Ransley or Henry ever existed. Think of me! My home has been built on ten times over. The place of my death, the tree I set myself up against has been long since dead. It's been cut down and rotted in the earth. My grave marking was a single rock in the ground, because my parents had never learnt to write. Everything I loved is buried deep underground. I have nothing to prove _I_ ever existed." She sighed then, a calming breath. "Surely you can do this one thing. At least the gravestones of your parents still stand. At least London will never die. At least you haven't lost what you lived for, because you never gave your heart to anyone." She knelt on her knees now and cocked her head to the side. "Please."

What choice did I have?

"Yea."

**A/N: Please leave a review, they make my day. :)**


	4. Welcome Reminders

**Welcome Reminders**

The decision that led me to visit Carlisle was a hard one. I had to wonder what impact I might have on his life. Would I scar him? In all truth, he has never met me, never known me. All he could probably grasp of his change was the sack of potatoes he found himself in, and the terrible pain of the rogue vampire's venom. I doubted he remembered me or Iago at all. But I most certainly remembered him; in fact I clung to his memory. He looked so much like Ransley I had to wonder if he was a descendant. Did his family come from Ireland? Catholicism has always been a powerful force there…but at the time, it had infected England just as strongly.

I let out a sigh then as I stepped off the plane full of delicious, hot humans, ready for the picking. But I'd made a promise to Ember before I killed her—as if I wasn't doing a lot already—I'd promised to make sure I never took another drink from a person. My eyes could never fill with the beauty of human blood again. Now I abstained from it, I no longer felt proud of what I did. It just led to a burning ache in my neck which I was certain would never go away. The fuel-filled air out in the open was a welcome relief. Taking slow and purposeful steps down a small staircase my hair whipped to the side in the breeze. Then I was abruptly enclosed in a small space, the artificial light in the fluorescent bulbs overhead. A corridor stretched ahead and I was reminded of the winding tunnels of Volterra's sewage system. The difference was that I wasn't walking in humanity's literal waste. Silently, I retched.

I was in Seattle and I'd yet to find out Carlisle's actual address. But that would be easy enough. Things were so much simpler for me with my sight when I had a focused area to look in. I'd kept tabs on him since his departure from Europe in the 1900s, always paying attention to road signs or if that didn't work—names of shops he passed. Carlisle was a difficult man to keep track of, despite his unusual name. He always opted for houses out of town. He never took any risks.

And something I thought he'd _never_ do, was make other vampires. He'd loathed my existence so much when I met him, just that one time, yet he seemed to have been overcome by something. I could only think of it as loneliness. Well, I knew that better than anyone. I may have been surrounded by many likewise thinking vampires in my time with the Volturi. But I had never been so perpetually alone, because no-one seemed to truly understand. They saw my vacant face and watched me stare into space; they were frightened. They were scared that one day they would suffer great loss just as I had, and that I was what they would become. After Iago left I had no reason to speak except when spoken to. I hoped that Carlisle might be able to reawaken me. Perhaps he'd open my eyes and pull me out of my wandering sleep.

A young girl bumped into me as her parents dragged her along, slightly too fast for the little girl's legs to carry her. She stumbled wildly as she gripped onto her mother's hand, the hairs on her arms stood on end. That was an expected side effect of passing Death. What had Henry told me? "_Bound closer to Death than death itself; living in between worlds_." I'd been horrified by that idea at the time, but over time I had come to accept it. Now it just filled me with anger that he reminded me of what I had been, of my darkest hour, when I was reformed. I hadn't ruined a soul for five years. The memories chilled me still though, and I would probably never escape them.

The corridor opened up into a large, open space. It was roofed in glass panels, allowing the grey light of October in Washington State to seep in. However, the smell of human blood entered my nose and caused the creature I fought so hard to hide, to run its claws along the metal railings of its cage. It jeered at me and scratched at the backs of my eyes, begging to be left in charge. It wanted to massacre the whole airport.

I felt venom run into my mouth, its subtle burn making my throat ache. But I would never unlock the door; I would keep the creature subdued firmly inside my head. It had plenty of room to bang on the walls and run and scream and shout. I could hear it right now, the desperate howling.

"Miss?" A middle-aged man appeared suddenly in my sight, smiling as he waved a hand in front of my innocent yellow eyes. He wore the standard airway staff uniform and looked to be concerned about something. I read his name tag as 'Jack'.

"Is there something wrong?" I inquired confusedly. He started then, jumping a few feet in the air. What was it that surprised him so? I watched him as he slowly got his bearings and prepared to speak to me. His Adam's apple bobbed in his throat.

"You look a bit lost, is all," he replied. Jack wrung his hands together in front of him, clicking and popping the bones as he waited nervously for me to answer. It gradually became clear to him that I didn't entirely know what he meant. So he started to speak again, "Do you have any luggage to claim?"

This I did understand. "Oh! No, I don't actually, just me." He smiled sweetly and gestured towards the exit out of the terminal. His eyes were cautious while he watched the other people in the room. He breathed out once, stunning me for a moment when the creature lunged for the keys.

"Well that's where you need to be headed then." He took this as his cue to leave with a vague wave thrown over his shoulder. His eyes were set on a small boy gripping to a metal chair as he gazed all around the room. I felt as though I should recognise him…but there was nothing I could place in his expression. Perhaps it was the teddy bear he gripped in his other hand. I remembered my last ever victim as if it were yesterday. A dark-haired mother with tanned skin. I could almost hear the satisfying crunch as I… _Stop_!

With that, I made my way out of the airport terminal, out of the bustling activity of check-in desks and into the car park. The cars seemed to go on for miles as they were in regimented lines, not a wheel out of place, not a line crossed. How organised. This was something I'd noticed the few times I visited the United States, the carefully planned squares and rectangles of the cities, and even _towns_. So strange it was that everything should be in _this_ order in _this_ shape, or else things would quickly go pear-shaped. Very strange.

To my left there was a small bench which was completely free of people. The silver colour of the slatted metal shone brightly, reflecting red and green in the light of the clouded sun. I saw this as the best place to settle while I searched for Carlisle's home. Over the many, many years I had to perfect my skill, I learned to concentrate my gift on other people than myself. I'd also learnt to search an area for a particular happening. It wasn't a precise science, and needed plenty of practise to maintain—but my gift was useful, in instances just like these.

_A girl with the same blonde hair as Carlisle climbed into a silver car, the interior was leather and it was filled with vampires. I recognised them all as Carlisle's make-shift family but not by name. Nor was I very familiar with their tendencies._

_The driver looked to be no older than eighteen years old with red hair that sat upon his head, splaying in all different directions. His fingers were wrapped tightly around the steering wheel, the stress becoming apparent on his face. He was handsome as far as men of that age go; the fiery tone of his eyebrows only served to make him appear more unusual though. His teeth gnashed loudly in his jaw, their grinding sound breaking the somewhat peaceful atmosphere in the car._

_A girl with dark hair and dead eyes sat in the passenger seat next to him. She was visibly uncomfortable and still clutched her seatbelt in hand. She waited with paused breath for whatever was happening to her to finish. I guessed it must be within her mind, a vision of some sort. I knew I looked like that when I was looking. _

_In the back seats, three other vampires of varying size stared ahead through the window. The largest sat behind the dark-haired girl; he was built in a similar manner to Felix. But his face was softer somehow, more honest. I always knew Felix had meant well, but over time I think he eventually forgot what was morally right or wrong. Aro had blinded him to the suffering of humanity. The man who sat in the back seat of the car looked as though he'd never told a lie all his life. _

_He sat next to the blonde haired beauty I'd followed into the car. She wore a teal coloured cardigan and a white shirt underneath it. She looked to be almost as young as the driver, perhaps a couple of years older than him, but younger than the large man she curled into. She put her hand in his and held it tensely. Her shoulders were hunched with worry._

"_Someone's coming," the girl in the front seat said, her eyes returning to the world. She slipped her seatbelt in place before she turned to the driver with a small smile on her face. "It's a fairly young girl, with brown hair and gold eyes—a vampire. But she seems to know Carlisle, and he doesn't seem to know her." She turned to the couple behind her, "She's English and will turn up on our doorstep just after dark. We'll be expecting her." She smiled widely then before she looked ahead. _

_The driver gripped the steering wheel hard enough to make dents before he reversed out of his parking space and sped out of the car park. He stopped at the entrance to the main road and the sign was as clear as crystal. _

'_Forks High School' _

My eyes snapped open with definition, having not realised I closed them I felt unsure of myself. Never before had I felt so disconnected from reality. Taking in a ragged, clean breath I put a hand where my heart should have beaten heavily in shock. The dark-haired girl had seen me.

She had described me just as surely as if I were looking in a mirror. But more than that, she'd known my nationality and my history. _What was she_? She'd said, "We'll be expecting her." If Aro ever caught wind of her…I didn't know what he would do. He was a powerful man; and when he knew what he wanted, the object of his desire never escaped. Was she a prophet? Or simply…I didn't know. I would just have to find out for myself.

I stood on the pale concrete ground and walked around till I came to the road. One day, I had decided to go to the cinema, and I had seen the heroine of the film stand on the curb and wave madly for a taxi to stop. So it was with this intention that I stopped by the side of the road and threw my arm out, my thumb poking out of the fist I made. Several cars passed before the yellow cab I had been waiting for showed up and pulled over.

"Where to?" he inquired as I clambered in. The car smelt of tobacco smoke and leather and the driver's blood. He smelt disgusting, his blood and lungs filled with the many chemicals found in modern cigarettes. He was balding and the red back of his head was pressed against the headrest.

"Do you know the town Forks?" I said in reply. At this he smiled before he started to cackle madly in disbelief. He turned around in his seat and he breathed once.

"How much are you willing to pay me to drive out there?" I hadn't thought of that. Money…? Dollars…? The pocket of the faded jeans I wore pressed into my thigh then. A roll of US dollars, courtesy of Aro, came into my hand as I reached into my pocket. He'd provided me with plenty enough to travel around for the next few years when he dismissed me.

I'd thought I would never use the money, but I guessed he had seen that I was wondering about Carlisle. Would I dare to meet him? Aro thought so. I handed the driver the roll of cash straight out of my pocket, not knowing its value and not truly caring. His eyes widened and he nodded as he pressed his foot down on the pedals.

*****

By the second hour of the long drive, I'd had to hold my breath. My resolve was strong, but not strong enough that I could resist human blood when it was served up to me on a silver platter. He started frantic, mindless chatter around the two hour mark too. His excitement was clear in the wobble of his voice and I could almost see the wide smile on his face.

"So you're from England, huh?" he said, cocking his head to the side as he attempted conversation with me. The roads whizzed by outside the window, the fading white bars of paint blurred into one if I didn't really look. They could become part of the background. But eventually, I was forced to reply when he called 'hello'.

"Yes, that's me." I sighed in exasperation. Why couldn't a human stand silence? It was such a beautiful sound, and so very rare in the world these days.

"Which part are you from? My folks live over there, returning to their roots they said." He chuckled to himself. My curiosity remained unsparked.

"The south of England, in London," I responded. I sat back in the softness of the leather seat and closed my eyes, hoping it would pass as 'jetlag'.

"Oh, sorry kid, I forgot you must be tired. Rest up."

Finally, he quieted.

*****

I stood on the other side of the stream, listening carefully to the goings on in the house. This was Carlisle's home. It hadn't been hard to find his scent, so deeply engrained in my memory. My swift exit from the taxi and into the woodland had caused the driver some nerves before he brushed them aside and headed back out to Seattle.

The house was large and white and clean. Everything that vampires _weren't_. Vampires hid. Vampiric life was black with death, as dark as the cloak Mr. Reaper was often depicted in. Vampires were as clean as mud. But Carlisle, I didn't know Carlisle, I didn't have any idea really how he'd reacted to the hand he'd been dealt. I left before he could wake up.

A figure appeared in the window, that of a young man's. I recognised him as the driver of the silver car and immediately; instinctively leapt back from the free-flowing stream into the wilderness. He smirked when he saw me jump, his golden eyes mocking me as they followed my movement in the darkness. I didn't know why I thought I could hide.

He turned his head back into the house and beckoned to someone. There was a burst of movement then as all seven vampires appeared before me, though they didn't stray too far from the house. The largest man with curly brown hair stood in a defensive crouch, his arms making a great shield across the group. Behind him stood the driver, with bronzed hair and focused golden eyes he watched me with keen attention.

There was Carlisle; he looked so…young and healthy. He looked wonderful. My sight may give me a good idea of what is happening but there is nothing that compares to witnessing it myself. He looked clean and pure and happy! He was everything Ransley should have been. He wore doctoring clothes and his hair was windblown from running. I couldn't help but smile.

"Carlisle!" I cried happily. He was confused now though; he didn't know quite what to make of me. The bronze-haired boy nodded almost imperceptibly and the man who'd taken a defensive post straightened up. He looked pleased to not have to attack anyone today.

"Hello," Carlisle called. I took this as a reason to approach them. He shouldn't have to crane his neck like that. Jumping over the river, my jeans fluttered in the breeze and the shirt I wore rode up slightly. By the time I was landed on the ground again, the mud on my shoes had been blown off. Now they stood just a few feet away. But the man I held in my arms as he died didn't know who I was.

Perhaps he would remember once I got the chance to talk to him.

"Hello Carlisle," I replied. "And hello to all of your family," I said as I turned to them. They exchanged unsure glances with one another. Only the shortest of them all seemed perfectly at ease. She smiled slightly while she gripped the very tense hand of her companion.

"What business do you have here…?" he inquired. Carlisle was quite the diplomat. When I had looked for him in the past, he had often been speaking to patients, always with the softest tone any human could manage without whispering.

"Isabella, my name is Isabella." Carlisle nodded. "I've come to meet you. I knew you when you were just a human boy. But I arrived too late." He was taken aback—this was probably the last thing he expected.

"She was with the Volturi, Carlisle," a tall male interrupted. I was frozen to the spot when I saw him, minus the ragged clothes of the city and desert dust. Major Jasper Whitlock.

"You! You escaped!" I pointed to him accusingly. This was certainly a face I never expected to see. I searched through all the times I had looked for Carlisle then, coming up with nothing. He had evaded every moment in time that I looked upon him. He was _so_ lucky! "You are so fortunate Major Jasper Whitlock! So lucky! If I had come across you once in my service with the Volturi, it would have been _curtains_ for you!" He remained tense and nodded earnestly. He watched me with careful eyes…suspicious.

"I'd like to make it clear that I was let go from the Volturi five years ago. I wasn't there willingly, and I didn't relish in my actions. But it must be understood that I have no intention of returning to them." The family remained silent for a moment. Jasper was still cautious. The bronze-haired boy appeared to be resisting the urge to smile. I frowned at that; what cause for excitement could he see here? Did he take pleasure in my discomfort?

"What can you tell me, Isabella?" Carlisle asked as he came forward and put a hand on my shoulder. I looked up to him, and saw the understanding I begged of in his eyes. Carlisle didn't disappoint. He was just as I had imagined him to be.

"I'm still not certain of her…" Jasper hesitated. One foot was raised above the ground as he debated within himself whether to intervene.

"Jasper, she's not doing anything right now is she? There is not a whisper of violence in her mind right now; you should be able to sense that." The last part was spoken in an undertone, hidden behind the Major's head as the bronze boy tried to reassure him.

"How did you know that?" I said, this time pointing to the bronze-haired boy. I was intrigued, 'there is not a whisper of violence in her mind'. How could he know my mind? Was it a lucky guess?

"Please won't you come inside, Isabella?" Carlisle said, stealing my attention once again. "There is much to be learnt." He gestured behind him for me to come inside, one hand still on my shoulder. He smiled gently as we began to walk.

"Thank you," I told him as we passed the family and they filed in behind us. Jasper warned them with his eyes—waiting for me to turn and ravage the whole lot of them. Had I been so detestable? I had killed only two in his presence yet he treated me as a mass murderer. I was. But he couldn't know that. For all he knew, I was a simple volunteer and had flounced off after the battle I did with him and Maria. Perhaps I was the stuff of legends, I scoffed.

The house was as cold as the forest, with no need of heat the family needn't bother. No lights were on. Yet it remained a welcoming home. I had no doubt this was something to do with the happiness they lived in. Carlisle's home was a far cry from the Volturi manor…castle? It was hard to describe.

He sat me down on a brown sofa in the living room and the new smelling leather creaked as I seated myself. Carlisle sat beside me, one leg curling underneath him while the other rested on the ground. He clasped his hands nervously in front of him and waited.

The blonde girl I had seen first settled onto the curly-haired man's lap in one of the big armchairs. The bronze-haired boy sat down on the sofa opposite me and Carlisle's mate came to sit beside him. She was quite pretty, with light brown hair and full lips there was cheer in every line of her face. She was good for Carlisle, and he was good for her. The shortest girl came to sit on the arm of the sofa beside me. Jasper looked to be quivering almost, desperate to take his mate from my reach. She smiled to him, but he stood beside the largest man.

"I think some introductions are in order," Carlisle said abruptly. Every vampire in the room straightened their back and waited to be introduced. Carlisle first pointed to his mate, a welcoming and loving look in his eye. She stood, the form-fitting trousers and blouse rushing against her skin as she moved. She crossed the room and Carlisle wrapped an arm around her waist.

"This is Esme, my wife." Esme smiled and held a hand out for me to shake. I closed my fingers around her large ones, the very adult hands of a woman only just starting her life. She was lucky to have met Carlisle; her shining eyes told me so.

"Hello," she said, her voice was as soft as her face. She let go of my hand then and sat on the arm of the sofa. Carlisle swiftly moved on, gesturing to the lone boy in the room.

"This is Edward," Carlisle said with a smile in his voice. Edward looked up from the patch of carpet he'd been watching and smirked—much like he had done on arrival. It was half-mocking, half-friendly. I didn't know where I was when he gave me that look, it was unnerving. It was irritating. But I kept a straight face in my attempt to keep from further discord in Carlisle's family.

"Hello, Bella." I scowled then, and venomous tears drew my eyes. Only Ransley could call me that. _Only Ransley_.

"I'd prefer Isabella, please," I snapped. I slapped a hand over my mouth, and though I made no apologies for my preference I didn't feel he deserved rudeness. "I'm so sorry…" I murmured. He nodded once, a solemn expression crossing his face before he replaced it with indifference.

"I should tell you that Edward can read minds, Isabella." Carlisle said beside me. No wonder his smirk upset me so, he really _did_ know what was going on. He could read every thought I had since I got here. Damn him! _I hope you'll keep out of my head from now on, Edward._ I said to him, though not verbally.

"I'll try my best," he replied. Carlisle's bewildered eyes danced between us several times before moving on.

"This is Emmett and his wife Rosalie," Carlisle continued. They nodded to me, though they didn't show any friendliness. Who could blame them? I hadn't exactly been given good press following Jasper's outburst.

"And then there is Jasper and his wife Alice." Alice smiled on her introduction and put a hand out to me to shake. I took her hand, this time noticing her child-like hands in comparison to my own. How old had she been when she was turned? Jasper did not smile, nor did he grimace when Carlisle gestured towards him. Instead he kept his eyes on Alice, measuring every movement she made in time with my own.

"What can you tell me, Isabella?"

**A/N: Please let me know what you think! We met the Cullens, c'mon. haha**


	5. Reconciled

**Reconciled**

It was like I were there again, living it out for a second time. Carlisle lay writhing upon the sack of potatoes and I clung to my sanity; I wished I could see Ransley in this young man's place. He looked so much like him, the same height, the same blonde hair. The same smile. Though the man I sat beside was not pleased, but in agony.

"_Kill me," he whimpered before I placed a hand over his mouth. I smiled gently to him and listened for movement on the streets. The people this man had mobbed with were mostly bled dry by the vampire by now, or lost. The weaving of the streets was so confusing when I had lived here, even on the outskirts. The man groaned then and bit down on my hand, his hands flailed to my arms, pushing frantically against them. I looked to him then, wondered why he had suddenly panicked. My hand was blocking his nose._

_I slapped my hand to my mouth, "I'm sorry!" I exclaimed. His eyes snapped open, the startling blue darkening with the poisonous venom—the light falling from his eyes. Life ever so slowly running…hiding. Each part of his body was in frenzy. I shook my head dejectedly and recovered his mouth. I did not want attention drawn to us. I stared imploringly into his eyes, and put a single finger to my mouth as a show of silence. This seemed to make him scream louder._

"_Be quiet! Do you want Iago to find us?" I whispered forcefully. He shook under my hand while his body squirmed, trying to find a way out of my grip. _

"_Isabella?" I heard him call from the street. Quick footsteps went far away before they returned nearby, shallow breaths following them. There was an echo as a boot touched the top stair and they descended. Iago. "Isabella!" He stood beside me then, and put a hand on my shoulder. "What are you doing with this man?" _

_I looked to my left, where he stood. His hair was ruffled and his cloak torn, his eyes were dark with hunger. "Block your nose!" I demanded. He appeared confused for a moment before he did so. "He survived the attack…" Iago's brow rose. _

"_Did you catch the vampire who ran off?" he inquired. I bit my lip nervously. "I would guess that is a 'no'. Isabella!" He stepped back and walked to the other side of the man—who still struggled in my unbreakable grip. "Isabella, don't you remember Aro's rule? We mustn't interfere, not unless it will be for the greater good." I frowned. How might I defend this choice?_

"_But he is so much like Ransley…" I said wistfully, taking my free hand and brushing it along the palm of his hand. _

I blinked one and returned to my senses; my surrounding had become the dark cellar of a London butchery for a moment. Maybe longer. I looked to my lap and found myself stroking the palm of my own hand. A venomous tear fell from my eye and burnt the skin of my hand. I swiftly wiped the rest from my eyes and looked up. I put a bright smile on my face and hoped that I had not been noticed. Of course the two faces that stood out the most were the most melancholy.

Jasper had moved to stand beside Alice and had a firm grip on her arm. His eyes were begging to her but she stood tall, refusing to move from her post beside me. Edward appeared disturbed and unhappy—most likely by my own memories. The rest were confused, their eyes moving between the most anxious of them all. I sighed.

"Forgive me, sometimes things overwhelm me…I came because I felt like I owed you an explanation. You must be wondering about how I know you?" I almost took his hand in mine, but thought better of it. I didn't want to be too familiar with him; mistaking him for someone I had lost long ago would not go down well.

He nodded in response to my question, so I began the story. Of how I had been sent to London to catch the rogue vampires he hunted, the surprise of such knowledge in human people.

"Carlisle, I'm sure you remember such tales of evil witches and vampires, the kind that would take you in the night." I laughed lowly at the thought of such silly stories, designed to frighten us out of our wits. But the worst part was that the tales were true, at least in part. Carlisle nodded hesitantly as he tried to remember his own childhood, over 300 years ago. But he would have remembered them as he heard the parents of the day telling them to their children. I certainly did.

"And then when the vampire ran away, I gave chase. But then I found you and your comrades in the alley, you were still alive but bleeding. I saw something of an old friend in your face, decided that you had to live. You would be good." My brow furrowed of its own accord, my face creased with uncertainty. "I'm not entirely sure how I knew it; perhaps I was blinded by that familiarity. But I can see I was right in the end, it's in the colour of all of your eyes." I smiled to them all, the family acknowledging me with varied expression. Rosalie appeared the most uncomfortable in this situation, and I was curious as to why.

"But why did you leave, if you cared so much?" Carlisle inquired. The question was bitter, but his voice was not. He was curious, and this was the question I had dreaded. Would this be what scarred him most? Waking up alone? I'd been disturbed most when I killed a person, not the strange new sight or smells. Just the raw feeling of hunger, the terrible monster gnashing its teeth in my place. Henry helped me when I realised what I'd done, and even though he wasn't sympathetic to me, he had pulled me to my senses. Carlisle had no-one.

"But I couldn't have helped it," I said in reply to my own thoughts. I continued as if that were part of my reply. "Iago forced me—for my own good in truth. You see, Aro almost has a code of practice for us, and if we don't follow it he will punish us. The rule that I was tempted to break when I found you was to never interfere with another vampire's prey. You were the prey of that rogue vampire, and I was tampering with you when I should have left you in the alley. I should have left you until someone found you, screaming as you were in pain." The room was as silent as midnight, and seven stunned faces stared at me. I shifted in my seat uncomfortably, I didn't like to be scrutinised so closely.

"What I did for you was the most I could manage without breaking our law. Iago saved me from greater punishment by taking me away from you. If I had waited out the three days it took to turn you Carlisle, Aro would have sent out a second party to check out the damage. And if I had acted as I wanted to, we would be fugitives. Imagine—we would not have stood a chance. I was having trouble controlling you in the time I _did_ spend with you. I was just fifteen when I was turned, you were twenty-three. I could not have possibly kept us safe for any length of time. Newborn strength is beyond even me…Iago did us both a favour.

"But I have regretted that favour ever since." I smiled apologetically, embarrassed by my whispered admission. I pulled my shoes off and curled into a ball on the sofa, an instinctual reaction in the face of emotional detachment. I hated what I was, how cowardly I was where stronger women would have stood firmly by their opinions. I knew what it was to forgive, and I hadn't done it in a very long time.

"I wish I could have been more help, given you more guidance. But I don't know if you would have responded well to that, I would have taught you to feed on humanity at the time. I think you would have run from me, through terrible hatred for our kind." Carlisle nodded shortly, considering something in his mind.

"I know it is a lot to take in, you thought you were alone at the beginning and now I have appeared hoping for forgiveness. Telling you how much I wish I had stayed…" I stood then and made for the back door. "I'm no good for anyone, I wouldn't be hurt if you told me no. That's why I am going now, I have no right to swan in here and tell you all about yourself and myself and I am just. Stupid." _Lonely_.I sighed then and opened the glass door. The night was dark now; it still did not hinder my sight after six hundred years. But the new colours I had discovered before with wonder I looked on with resentment of my unending life. Such a long life and I had nothing to be truly proud of.

"Isabella," Carlisle called uncertainly. "Please don't go." A smile graced my features for the first time in a long while. I turned around and walked into the doorway again, resting a careful hand on the frame of the window. Carlisle had come to his feet and outstretched a long hand to me. "If I'm being completely honest, I don't know how I would have responded to you back then. I don't know whether I would cringe or embrace you." The gentle smile I had seen in so many of my visions made an appearance. "I really don't know, but I'd like to understand it some more. I'd like to know you, as you know me. Even better perhaps."

I didn't quite understand what he was saying to me, couldn't comprehend what he was offering. It was so impossible…

"Friendship?" I murmured. Carlisle nodded, his blonde hair bobbing in confirmation. My mouth dropped open before I snapped it shut and considered this, facing myself away from the family. I let out a strangled gasp. This was most definitely not what I had expected. I had expected Carlisle to go into a fit of rage the moment he saw me, or when I told him who I was. I expected him to send me away, his family calling to me never to come back. I had tried not to dwell on such a prediction, in hopes of it not coming to fruition.

I had only guessed that he would take what I said and nodding to himself…send me away again. Or if he didn't believe me, I could have guessed that. I would have dealt with that alright.

"It doesn't seem right that you should travel so far and not at least spend the night." I laughed inwardly at the absurdity of it—it was such a human gesture to suggest that. So human that I was almost _stunned_ by it. Had he ever given himself to the monster? Did he never drink from a human at all? Impossible. Everyone starts with it after the change…

But I had known Carlisle would be good when I saw him. Perhaps it was the Ransley I saw in him that blinded me to Carlisle's flaws. Usually when you would look upon a human, there would be blemishes and spots on the skin that were so noticeable one might as well plaster neon paint over it. But I had not noticed them when I found Carlisle; they will have been there but I never paid any mind.

"Have you ever drunk from a human, Carlisle?" I turned around to face them all. Each held neutral faces now, suppressing what they truly felt. Carlisle considered this for a moment.

"No," he said. There was no doubt in his mind, I could tell from the tone of his voice. I admired this, the pride he had in his certainty. That he had never taken from humanity? No vampire I had met before could claim that title. I had wished I was capable of such abstinence, when I met Ember in Barnstaple I wanted to accomplish that. But in all the time I spent with the Volturi, I'd forgotten such thoughts.

At least now, I could say I hadn't drunk human blood for five years.

"Will you stay Isabella?" he inquired once more. Alice smiled from beside Jasper, her eyes dead to the world while she lived a vision. A bizarre feeling of longing came over me as I looked to the Cullen family. I wanted to be here, I wanted to know Carlisle. I wanted to know Edward and Esme—the people he held dearest to his heart. I wanted it, and I would take it as well as I could.

"I'll stay as long as I'm welcome, Carlisle. Thank you," I replied slowly. I came forward to take his outstretched hand and shook it in both of mine. "Thank you so much." With that, Alice moved forward to take my hand from Carlisle. She looked up to me with a knowing smile and pulled me away from the rest of the Cullens.

"Alice," Jasper called with a scarred arm reaching out to touch her. "I'm not comfortable with this." Alice stopped then to gaze at him, an unspoken message in her eyes. He looked between me and Alice several times before he backed down. His shoulders slumped as he sat down in the arm chair Rosalie and Emmett had just vacated. "Be careful," he murmured under his breath. Jasper put a hand through his hair in exasperation.

"You can sense that she is no danger, Jasper," Alice told him sincerely. My brow furrowed at that; this wasn't something mentioned amongst the Volturi. But surely Eleazar would have mentioned it? On the other hand, that was a very large group and I doubt he will have been able to pin one talent to any one vampire in all the chaos. I would ask about "sensing" that I'm no danger later…or perhaps they would tell me like they had told me about Edward.

"I'll show you your room, Isabella," Jasper's mate told me before pulling me straight up the stairs. Her grip on my hand was strong and willing, I couldn't help but feel wanted when someone held onto me so powerfully. I hadn't felt wanted in a long time. Alice's raven black hair rushed behind her as she walked, its cropped tendrils reaching out like small flowers to the sun. Again, I wondered how old she had been when she was changed.

Two further flights of stairs pulled ahead of us and various ornaments and paintings on the walls caught my eye as she guided me through the house.

"Rosalie and Emmett's room, Carlisle and Esme's study and library, my and Jasper's room…" She gestured left and right along the corridor as we walked, never losing pace. I guessed each room must be huge to cover one whole floor of the house. But when you had eternal life, a lot of money could pile up. She rushed up the second flight of stairs then, barely allowing me to look around. I caught sight of an old cross on the wall, sanded down and hanging on the wall by two nails pushed through it; also on the wall hung a few contemporary paintings that held nothing of consequence.

The wood of the stairs clattered underfoot and Alice continued to name each room in the house. "This is Carlisle and Esme's room." Towards the middle of the corridor she cast me a mischievous look. "That is the library." I wanted to look in there just to find out what the source of amusement was, to just nudge the door slightly. But Alice moved on.

"Your room is right here," she said pushing a Beachwood coloured door open. Inside the walls were painted a light blue in keeping with the rest of the house, I observed. There was a double bed against the wall on the far end and the right hand wall was glass—looking out to the forest. The room was dark with the night though, Alice switched on the light beside the door.

There was a large quilt of stars and fish sewn in varied shades of blue bung on the left hand wall. Beneath it was a white sofa with blue and grey cushions rested along the back of it. The carpet was soft white, only obstructed by a rag rug settled on the floor in the centre of the room. I decided that I liked this room and turned to tell Alice so.

But she was gone.

"Oh…" I went to sit on the edge of the bed, running my hands over the soft bedspread. The white colour was almost blinding to my eyes, and I found that it reminded me of teeth. The strange brightness I knew I possessed, every vampire owned. It was so that no human would be revolted by our appearance. But from the perspective of a vampire who was trying to stay away from said humans, it only made the task so much more difficult.

I sighed as I lay back on the bed, the springs swaying under my weight as I fell. A smile lit my face when I realised where I was, who I was with. Who _wanted_ me. I could scarcely believe it as I'm sure they all realised. Edward was probably telling them all about me now, everything that had passed through my mind since I arrived. I imagined it a lot to take in…

"It was." I jolted at the sudden appearance of Edward in the corner of my eye. When had he appeared? I wasn't sure I like him finishing my thoughts either. "I try not to answer people's thoughts, but you seem to make it especially difficult." I sat up then to face him, to study his expression. There was a feeling of regret in the tone he used, some uncertainty too.

"Why is it difficult?" I inquired, resting my hands in my lap. That disconcerting smile came upon his face again and then I knew that I hated his gift. I entertained the thought of handing him over to Aro, just for my own amusement. I could almost see his face; a glittering smile on his face and his eyes slightly unfocused as he took in Edward's every thought.

Edward was resting on the doorframe, with crossed arms over his chest. One leg was crooked to the wall, the other straight. This was the stance of a confident young man you might commonly see at the bar side. Cockily raising his brow at any woman who would give him a single glance—the Lothario figure.

He chuckled at this before he went on to explain. "Well, for one thing your bedroom is opposite mine. Another reason would be what you think of." Standing up straight then, he tried to appear stern. "I'm sympathetic to you Isabella, but that doesn't mean I will become automatic friends with you. Nor will anyone in this family, come to think of it." He passed me a grim smile. "Carlisle is curious of his beginnings, and he doesn't feel there is any right way to find out properly without offering you a bed for a few nights." I nodded at that, as I had suspected. I knew I wouldn't be staying for long.

"Thank you for your…insight Edward," I told him slowly. I was unsure of what approach I might take to him; should I treat him as an acquaintance? I felt like I'd known him for such a long time, I doubted such a relationship would be easy. "And thank you for the room; I never expected anything like this."

Edward nodded once, and then turned into his own room. The door slammed shut, much in the way I had heard many moody teenagers shut their doors after an argument. Why was he so confrontational?

**A/N: Well...that's chapter 5. What do you think is up with Edward?**


	6. Knowledge

**Knowledge**

Sitting on the edge of my bed, I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do. I felt comfortable where I was, there were no frightened looks and no-one thought it strange that I should drink from animals. I was amongst likewise thinking minds, and for that I had to be grateful. When I had travelled across Britain in '99, I hoped I might find Alistair. Bizarrely, there was no sign of him and no other vampire I came across had ever heard of him. I could only guess that he had fled once he realised what he'd done. He probably stayed in France…

I reached inside my pocket and pulled out a small purple band, it had a metal ring tying the material together. The band had wrapped around long blonde hair once, on the day of their death. Ember's ragged ponytail came to mind as it blew in the wind and fell out in the pouring rain. After setting her funeral pyre I had taken this from the ground and slid it into my pocket.

The colour was muddied and the metal rusted. But it was a part of Ember. But what was I doing, thinking of the dead when I had such good people here? _What is past is past_ as the old saying went. I had a great deal of trouble working to that rule I mumbled to myself with a chuckle. It was impossible _not_ to dwell when you had lived as long as I. Aro had seen that, and he pitied me.

But I couldn't find it in myself to hate the man, because I thought that for the most part he was fair. _Ransley being an exception_. No, Aro was so incredibly unjust that I almost couldn't stand to look at him. I couldn't hate Aro because hatred is a tiring emotion, and six hundred years was a long time to hold a grudge. Aro was right in what he did, with one exception. In the grand scheme of things, Ransley was very small. Ransley was not remarkable. Ransley had never done anything useful with his life and he had been vengeful.

Ransley had loved me, and left his oldest friend to be with me. And for that, I would grateful and regretful. He might have escaped if it wasn't for me. He might have been able to run; stowaway on a boat maybe…by then it was too late.

Ransley had burdened me. Not that I did not bear guilt for leaving Henry, I knew that he was wrong. Ransley had played no part in the creation of Emily, and that was why I hated the whole god forsaken situation. We had been blameless in Henry's madness. Then with that conclusion, what could we draw from Aro's decision to save _me_ and _kill_ him? Aro was greedy. He took everything I knew and forced me into submission. I had bowed and called him '_master_'.

No-one could be blamed for everything—that I could see. Henry was the only possible culprit, for reaching out and snatching me from the world. He had smelt my blood and lusted for it. On the other hand, if I had not been clumsy that day nothing would have happened. But Henry was an unnatural being, as I am too. Vampires shouldn't exist.

But all this blame was tiring. I slipped Ember's hair band into my pocket again and stood. Where might I go? What should I do? Alice seemed nice enough, the only one beside Carlisle to show me kindness out of their own hearts. Her petite body still had me wondering over her age though. And there was Carlisle who wanted to get to know me, as I did him.

I felt quite awkward in this house, only truly interacting with two of the seven. Except for Edward, who seemed to harbour some hostility for me. And Jasper, who I feared might make a move to dispose of me. But I knew I could deal with them easily enough.

"_What was his name? Ransford? Jadley? I can't quite remember…" Lucian said snidely. I snarled as tears welled in my eyes, threatening to burn my skin on the passage across my face. I really hated this man, who was so cruel as to throw harsh memories in one's face. Who was _he_, to think he had any right? _

"_What a sad little man he was, I prefer it when they at least try to stop us. Don't you, Corin?" I turned to Corin, daring him to say anything. I had taken him before, nearly ripped his head off last time he played along with Lucian's juvenile games. Corin didn't look like he would say anything, thinking better of it being so close the Master's chambers. I whirled on Lucian._

"_The very definition of a 'sad little man' is YOU Lucian," I snarled, the sound ripping through my chest like an angry lion. Why did Aro keep Lucian, when he knew what a horrid man he was? Lucian represented everything that was bad about England._

"_I'm not sad and I am far from little," Lucian quickly replied. The bastard._

"_To _me_ you are Lucian; how many vampires have you actually killed?" The voice of Iago came from the end of the corridor. He wore a small smile on his face, and as he strode down the stone pathways his skin reflected the light softly coming through the windows. Iago was my friend and he had come to defend me. _

"_More than you know," Lucian said. But there was a layer of uncertainty in his voice, as though he didn't know what Iago was getting at. If I was honest, I didn't either._

"_Oh? So I did _not_ overhear a conversation with Caius about how he thinks you rely on your gift too much? That he thinks…he might have to let you go soon?" Lucian's eyes narrowed, and his back straightened. His lips pulled back over sharp teeth, baring them to Iago. He looked like he was about to kill my friend for that jibe. _

_Iago let out a gasp as he plummeted to the floor, releasing a desperate cry. Jane stood at the mouth of the small corridor, a sadistic smile gracing her lips. Her harsh eyes were concentrated on my shaking companion; his hands reaching for something to grip onto. She wore her Volturi robes in the same prideful manner as usual and her leather-clad feet made no sound as she approached our group. But Iago cried louder as she drew closer, it was all I could do to take his hand and let him crush it. I accused Jane with my eyes, willing her to stop. _

_After what seemed like an eternity, she released her hold on Iago and I pulled him into my arms. Corin and Lucian had long since gone, and I wondered if Jane might practice her gift elsewhere. Preferably on Lucian. Jane had been doing this more and more often since she joined the Volturi, two years ago. Of course, Aro only encouraged it because he had never experienced Jane himself. I wondered if he would treat her differently if he knew properly what she could do._

"_How are you, Iago?" I said, putting a comforting hand on his cheek. He looked up, and his eyes were empty. The darkness in his eyes seemed to leech out to the rest of his face, laying it in a hideous shadow. There were strange moments like this, every now and then, when I would wonder if someone had placed an imposter in Iago's stead. But then the warmth I longed to see would slowly return to him. As he found him limbs again began to fidget and move, he pulled himself into a sitting position and crossed his legs beneath him. _

"_I am…better now." The emptiness had not yet left his voice though. _

I cursed myself for letting myself fall into my memories again, so often I did this that you would think I lived in the past. But this was not my intention at all, and I fled from my past. And my subconscious would not seem to agree. I knew I could have dealt with Lucian easily enough, had it become physical. Also, I knew that I could have tried to stop Jane, reported her to Aro for an unprovoked attack. But I was a mere coward, and I had not even considered it. Jane had that affect on people, to make them just freeze up.

Jane was cruel. Jane was _useful_. Jane was merciless and obedient. Jane was Aro's _dream_.

There was a light knock at the door.

"Come in," I called. Alice bounded in; her steps were soundless on the white carpet. I noticed what I had not had the time to as she walked in and sat down on the bed. She wore neat black open topped flats, a long navy blue smock top over even darker blue leggings. If I were to guess at her age, I would say no more than sixteen years. But she had the air of someone so much older, as all vampires did I supposed. All the ones I had met seemed arrogant.

"Hello, Alice." She simply smiled in acknowledgement and patted the bedding beside her, indicating that I should sit with her. Confused but obedient, I settled myself on the bed. But she did not meet my gaze, and stared at the wall hanging on the wall. "Did you want to ask me something?"

"Yes, I was just curious about your life before you came here. Jasper has said some things that he knows, and you have said a few things. Edward spoke of an old friend. I'd just really like to understand you better." There was no inflection in her voice, just plain curiosity. There were no hidden meanings, as far as I could tell. And it was such a small thing to ask for, really…

"I don't know when I was born, but records in the Volturi tell me I joined them in the year 1400. I am fifteen years old. I stayed with the Volturi in the Guard until 1999. Since then I have made acquaintances with people all around Britain and Europe. I tried to find some of the people I knew as a newborn—so far I have only found one of the two I could possibly find." While I was speaking, Alice slowly turned to meet my eyes. She was imploring, waiting for more personal information; I just wasn't willing to give it.

"Who did you find?" she inquired. Her hands were eager as they took my right hand into hers. Her eyes were wide as she waited with bated breath. I almost wanted to laugh at her, to scoff that I should be such an interesting person.

"A woman called Ember." That was as far as I was willing to go, and I made sure that rung clear in my voice. I would not be cajoled on this, no matter how friendly Alice was.

"Is she the reason you changed your diet?" Alice wondered.

"Yes. Now please can we not talk about Ember?" She nodded then, realising that she had overstepped, and releasing my hand from her grasp. But something struck me as odd. "What gave you the idea that I had changed my diet?"

"Your conversation with Carlisle and your skin. The more humanity you take, the more human you look." I considered this for a moment; I had not noticed this ever before. I looked more human than the Cullens? Alice smiled, and the dead look came into her eyes.

"You saw me coming," I reminded myself and asking her a question at the same time. But she was silent as she watched whatever was going on in her head. What would happen next?

"Yes, I can see the future as the people involved in a certain future change their minds. I saw you appearing on our doorstep; but you changed your mind and decided to go through the woods to our house instead of following the road." I was sure my expression was the very image of awe. She could see the future! Oh, if Aro came across her one day…

"Well, that would explain it," I murmured.

"Am I right to assume that you have a sight gift of your own?" She was still watching me, studying me and gauging my movements with each flick of her eyes. I didn't know what she expected to see. A symbol? Something leftover from the Volturi? The only things I took with me when I left was money, the clothes I wore, and my old robes. Of course, these were material things; I felt sure that my time there left some kind of psychological damage.

"You are," I replied. "I can see anywhere in the world at the given moment I choose to watch. I could tell you what was going on in Parliament right now if you wanted." Alice nodded to herself, and turned to face forward again. What did she think of that? She looked contemplative. "What are you thinking?"

She let out a light laugh at that. "Just thinking how…wonderful things will be with you here."

"Have you seen it?" I asked, trying to mask my raging hope. I wanted to believe I could be wonderful. I wanted to believe that I could bring happiness.

"I have, Isabella." She twisted her lip then. "But I don't know if I should have told you that…" My brow furrowed as I considered it. I was invited to stay for a few days, if he wanted me to stay longer that would be great. But if Carlisle tired of me, then I would not tarry.

Carlisle was the ultimate power in this house.

"What would you like to do tonight? Carlisle signed up for the night shift before I saw you coming, so you can't spend any time with him yet. But the rest of us are home—"

"Can I ask how old you were when you were turned, Alice? It's been bothering me, how small you are." I tried to smile reassuringly but I couldn't tell if it worked. Alice seemed relaxed enough about it.

"I was nineteen," she told me swiftly. "Now, what would you like to do?"

I stuttered over my answer. She was _nineteen_? She must have been born into a very poor family. I was shocked but quickly recovered.

"Whatever you would like to do, Alice. This is your house," I said. She simply took my hand, led me down the corridor, and down the two flights of stairs into the living room. Esme grinned at the sight of me.

"Hello, Isabella," she said as she passed us by. I didn't know where she was going, but she went straight up the stairs behind us. Alice sat me on the sofa across from Jasper, who reluctantly offered me his hand. He was offering me a truce, which I was sure Alice had coerced him into.

But a truce, nonetheless.

I took his hand and shook it once, firmly. If he could get over it then so would I, it wouldn't be right for me to hold his first reaction against me. But something had bothered me about him for a very long time, I just had to ask.

"What were those looks you gave me, on the battlefield?" I still clutched his hand while he paused. Jasper thought for a moment, with tense muscles and gnashing teeth. He didn't know what I was talking about.

"You were confused," I went on. His teeth were still grinding, only now his brow had furrowed and his eyes were deep in shadow.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he replied finally.

"You should," came a murmur from upstairs. It was Edward. But he didn't bother to come down and explain; this only served to unnerve Jasper. He _really_ didn't know what I meant?

"I'm sorry, but I don't."

"Well I'm sorry that you don't remember." I shrugged. "It would have lifted a weight from my mind if I knew what you were thinking then, because I have thought of it often. Strange looks stay with me for a long time…"

"Evidently," was Jasper's snappy reply. He quickly opened his hand to release mine and stepped back. He still looked confused.

"That wouldn't be a good idea, Jasper." Alice had put a light touch on his arm and there was a howling laugh upstairs. Now _I_ was confused. Esme walked down the wooden staircase, her flat shoes making a soft rubbing sound on the polished floor. She padded over to us.

"Why is Edward mad with laughter?" she inquired. He still howled.

"Jasper briefly considered wringing Edward's neck for his unnecessary input in our conversation. I think what _he_—" Alice gestured with a pointed finger upwards, "—finds amusing, is that Isabella had Jasper on the floor in a second when he accidentally threw a punch in her direction." I had to snort at that.

Jasper was chagrined. "Oh dear, Jasper," Alice cooed before she took his hand and led him out into the night. I was left with Esme.

She shyly smiled to me. "Anything I can do for you, Isabella?" I shook my head 'no' and retreated to my room. Though I was stopped halfway up when Emmett called to me.

"It's nice to hear that there's someone in the house that can take Jasper down," he winked. "We'll have to have a real go at that sometime." He chuckled to himself and went back inside his room. Still I carried on up to my room. The high point in the house.

But Edward waited for me, leaning against the wall outside of my door. Again he took the stance of a Lothario, without even realising it and not seeming to care. He could hear it in my thoughts.

"What can I do for you, Edward?" I said as I pushed my door open, he followed me in. I sat on the bed, and he took a seat on the sofa. I tried to smile, but his scrutinising gaze made it very difficult. He studied my face as loosely as one would study the fine hairs of a dog. I didn't like to be watched like this. "Edward?"

"I don't know what you're trying to do, but it's not going to work." Always on the offensive, it seemed. I rolled my eyes.

"Really, Edward," I sighed. All he could do was nod. "What makes you think I have some kind of plan?"

"Alice's vision, it said something more."

"And what might that be?"

He shifted in his seat.

"That you knew me, once…as a baby."

**A/n: This is way late and I'm sorry, but real life got on top of me. So, I'm sorry! But what do you think Alice saw in her vision?**


	7. Absent Rules

**Absent Rules**

"What are you getting at?" I inquired, still greatly confused. There had to be more to it than this. "What _exactly_ was in Alice's vision?" At this, Edward grew more nervous. I was sure that if he were human, venom would be pouring into my mouth tenfold from his increased heart rate. The chase was another great part of the kill.

"Well, in the vision when Jasper accidentally punched you, you were reminded of the end of the battle outside Houston and in it…" He huffed a breath then. "I saw you think of your sight; the woman giving birth? I think she may have been my mother." Edward's mouth curled into a grimace, not at all sure of his verdict.

"But she looked very little like you," I replied quickly. I studied his face as I compared him to the woman in the vision. There was perhaps one similar trait, and that was the shape of his eyes. "The only similarity is the eyes, Edward. I don't see how that can be. And when were you born anyway?"

"1901," he answered promptly. Now I _knew_ it couldn't possibly be his birth I saw in my vision outside Houston. Did he forget what year it was? _1884_.

"It isn't possible, Edward." I showed him my vision again, looking closer now at the face of the woman. Edward stared off into space somewhere while he concentrated. His face was tense, and he began to clench his hands into fists.

"I know her face," he murmured. "I know it, but I can't quite grasp it." I almost reached out a hand to release his fists, but thought better of it. He wouldn't want me to disturb his thought patterns, I was sure. Instead I tried to encourage the remembrance.

"What about the doctor?" I said, hoping to jar his memory. I looked to the stunned face of the suited man, after the woman had fallen asleep. Did he know the face of the doctor? Did Edward know these lips? I wondered what I should say if he in fact did know the doctor. What did that say? Why was the birth of this child so important that it should burst forth into my mind while I searched for newborn armies? It was all a great mystery.

"Grandfather Al?" Edward was rightly bemused. What was I doing with a vision of his grandparents? "And that must be my grandmother…but I never knew her." His face was a picture of confusion and sadness. "Grandfather Al named my mother after his wife. I never knew."

"I'm sorry." This was certainly one way to 'break the ice' as I had heard someone say on my way over the Atlantic. "I didn't know." I felt guilty. If there was a way to be introduced to your grandmother, it was not upon their death! I hung my head low. "I'm so sorry."

"I can't remember my grandfather very well, Isabella. Only through pictures. My parents had me very young, so they had to move away from my grandfather to a place where no-one would know them. I think there was only one time when Al visited and I was no taller than the fireplace." We shared a grim smile. "If anything, I'm grateful." This, I failed to understand. "It's a new memory of my mother, though I wasn't there to witness it. I can understand her better, knowing this."

He had long since come to terms with his mother's death, it seemed.

"Thank you, Isabella," he said suddenly before he stood up and walked back into his own room. My eyebrows were quirked for a moment, watching his bedroom door swing closed. Edward was a person that I struggled to understand. The hostility I had seen in him at first was replaced by gratitude now, gratitude for a memory of his mother. A memory, in which his mother essentially _killed_ his grandmother. I couldn't fathom it. But then again, I had been born in a time where childbirth did kill a large number of women, and in most the child died too. I clearly had a very different perspective on this than most did.

Day broke in the east, and Carlisle was home. I heard the car engine quiet as he pulled the key from the ignition, and followed his steps through the house. Esme gave him a warm welcome. But there was a hesitance in the way he set his feet on the floor…he was considering something.

He walked up the two flights of stairs and strode to the near end of the corridor. Carlisle wondered about how he should enter into my room, though it wasn't rightly mine. He shifted from foot to foot, the internal debate manifesting itself on the outside in the most human of ways. I was close to asking him to come in when I heard his fist wrap three times on the door.

"Come in," I called from my seat on the sofa. I had done nothing but stare out the window since Edward left my room last night. I considered what happiness would be like for me, and I had decided that I couldn't be happy again until I made peace with my past. _I had to right the wrongs I had committed_. It was only fortunate that two of my wrongs were sitting in the very same house at the time I went to right said wrongs! Very fortunate indeed…

Carlisle only walked far enough in the room to speak to me as a human would to their doctor. An even distance, but a distance none the less. Why did humans fear their doctors so? It wasn't as if they were going to turn around one day and say, 'Aliens have implanted their DNA in your body, we have to operate immediately.' Or to sprout wings and fly off with their medical notes in hand; now that _would_ be interesting. But I suppose… perhaps humans didn't like the friendly face their doctors often offered? Humans were strange things.

"How are you, Isabella?" Carlisle inquired, leaning back against the pale wall. He still wore his doctoring clothes: a dark suit and black, pointy shoes. I didn't know how he managed to look so comfortable in those clothes; suits did not suit me, though Aro had tried to force one upon me once. I was always more at home in a skirt, but sometimes it just wasn't practical.

"I am very well, Carlisle. Thank you. And how are you?" I gestured with my hand that he should continue. He nodded that he was fine. And then he stood there, studying the floor for a good five minutes. "Would you like to sit?" He took that as his cue to sit on the end of the bed. Carlisle bowed his head and rested his arms on his knees, his hands clasped ahead of him. It looked like he was praying, but his lips formed no words.

So he rested there, while I watched him work through whatever he was considering. Eventually, the outside world became more interesting. I could see none of my Ransley in this man anymore. Ransley's blonde hair had been wild, where Carlisle's was combed. Ransley's eyes were red with human blood; this man had never taken a human life in his three hundred and forty years. Carlisle was separate from Ransley now; this was something I could see in the daylight. But I wished I could reach out, and run my hand through his hair.

I clung to my memories. How would I make peace if I did not let them go? I could still only think of Ransley with guilt. The Irish lilt to his voice was absent in Carlisle. I breathed a sigh, leaning back in my chair and looking into the wilderness. The dawn chorus was making its grand appearance, the mad twittering of the birds and calls of the mammals I knew would eventually meet their end in the hands of a vampire. Such a large coven could not stay in one place for any length of time without making an impact on the environment. I chuckled then. Such a healthy outlook I had on life, didn't I? The grim smile I had shared with Edward came to mind, older eyes behind a young face.

Oh, but wasn't that part of the bargain Ember described? That promise of a 'long, healthy life'. Her bitter words echoed in my mind. She had been alive for over a thousand years before she decided that enough was enough. And who could blame her? She had no-one left. I grimaced at this… I had no-one left after Iago left me so why hadn't I done the deed as well. It might be a service to the world. Perhaps it was because I wasn't ready; perhaps it was because I felt like I owed it to Ransley to stay around. I didn't know.

"How old are you, Isabella?" I jumped in my seat, having almost forgotten Carlisle's existence. "Physically, how long have you been living for?" I considered this. The Volturi had taught me to count, the basic education at least.

"About 620 years old, at an estimate. Time wasn't measured—" Carlisle nodded in acknowledgement. Of course, _he knew_. "Why do you ask?"

"I'm just trying to get a better understanding of you. After all, wasn't this part of your staying here? We were to become friends." Carlisle smiled widely, and reached out one of his hands to me. I took it eagerly, relishing in the feel of his familiar skin. Just for a moment, I could imagine that we had been companions our entire lives. I wished this could be true, that maybe I had not been changed into a vampire in quite the same way.

The morning sun cast a dim light on the world now, and I took my hand from his.

"What did you do with yourself after the change, Carlisle?" An ancient sadness passed over his features then and I regretted my inquisitiveness. "I'm sorry… if it's an uncomfortable subject I can just leave it alone. You don't have to answer." I stood and went to stand by the window, absently watching the colours of the autumn leaves. It was always a wonderful time of year.

"No, it's only that I wish I could have had someone to share it with," he said wistfully. "I met other vampires, when I was older. You know what it is like to be a newborn, Isabella, I'm sure." I nodded at that. "When I woke from the change I could smell my own blood as well as the scent of two other…non-human scents. It was dark when I woke and realised what I had become, just what I had hunted. I wanted nothing more than to kill the monster that had done this, who I assumed one of the scents belonged to. So I followed those smells out of London and to the border, to the very cliffs you must have leapt from. So I thought, _well maybe they're dead? Maybe I can die too_." He laughed without humour then, an empty feeling in his voice.

"Well, we know how wrong I was there. So, I carried on attempting to kill myself; I starved myself of the blood that I yearned to drink. I was in New Forest one day, when I caught the scent of a muntjack. I followed it, killed it and took its blood. And I found a new way to live, in the New Forest ironically enough." I had to smile at that, though my conscience roiled inside of me. I wanted nothing more than to have been there, when Carlisle made this grand realisation.

"How long after your change was that, Carlisle?" I refused to stare him in the face, dreading the sadness I knew I would see there. So the growing light outside became more and more falsely interesting as he went on to answer my question.

Carlisle hesitated. "Two or three months afterwards," he paused in thought. "I couldn't be sure." A bright smile lit my face.

"I knew you would be good," was my soft murmur. "I saw it in your eyes, in the purpose of your walk." My hands clasped together of their own accord, before they pressed into an excited clap. "Even in your newborn state, you managed to abstain from human blood!" Carlisle started at the rise in my voice. "Do you know I killed three people on my first day? A couple and a maid of some kind… in my own village."

I whirled on him. "Do you realise how happy this makes me? You are everything that I wanted to be while I was with the Volturi. You were good from the very start! My prediction may not have been completely unfounded; it may not have been because of your likeness to an old friend of mine at the time. For once, I was right."

"I think you've misunderstood, Isabella. I had obscene thoughts from the moment I woke up, I dreamt of taking the life of everyone in the city—"

"But you didn't! You stopped yourself. _You have admirable control_." Ransley's Irish voice rung in my head; this was something that he had said to me.

For a moment, I could believe that I was in a Scottish pub on a street corner in Edinburgh. Henry sat beside me, his raven black hair tangled but shining under the flickering light of fire. Ransley slouched in his seat across from us, staring into his ale and talking about all the things he had heard and seen since he last saw Henry. The pub was near silent but for the steady heartbeats of two or three drinkers and the landlord. The pub was light in the glow of the many candles assailing the cold stone walls. I felt alone then, the man and boy talking about things I knew very little about.

_How was this different_? Last time, I hadn't been born. This time, it was due to my absence. Yet I seemed to see it fit that that I take the credit for another vampire's kill, and the goodness said kill did after I had gone. It was quite different, because at least this time I wasn't as alone as I had felt in that pub. At least now, I had some allies.

The alehouse from so long ago melted into the pale walls of the Cullen home; I wondered how long I had been living in the past.

"I'm sorry, Carlisle. I think I said earlier… some memories overwhelm me at times. How long was I gone?"

But he was gone from his seat on the end of my bed, and it was lighter outside. Judging by the positions of the shadows of the trees outside, it was around about nine in the morning. That meant I had been away in my mind for at least two hours. Embarrassed by my pathetic show, I rushed out of my bedroom and searched the house. Apparently, the only one home was Esme. I assumed that Edward, Alice, Emmett, Rose and Jasper had gone to school. But I could not account for the position of the man it seemed I had spoken to just moments ago.

"Hello, Isabella," Esme smiled warmly to me as I walked out into the back garden. She was working on a massive shrub near the end of the garden, pruning away the overgrown branches. She dropped her shears to the ground and went to meet me as I stared bewildered into the forest from the doorway. "Carlisle said that you were unwell," Esme continued.

I raised my eyebrows in disbelief as I refocused on her. Her distinctly French looking face watched me with a kindness I had seen nowhere else. Esme's brown and caramel coloured hair was in a loose ponytail at the back of her head; and her heart-shaped face only served to compliment the rounded off features of her face. Esme was lovely.

"Yes, sometimes I let my memories just take me…" I replied. She gestured for me to come out into the garden. I stepped off the door jamb and onto the muddied ground of October in the northern-most Americas. Most flowers here were closing up for the winter, their dead petals lying on the ground. But there were some larger plants that clung onto their leaves, such as the one Esme worked on.

"I know what that feels like," she said, picking up her shears. "But you have to try and overcome it, I'm sad to say." She cut at the branches, the sharp sound breaking into the calm of the surrounding forests. "I know that it seems easier to just…wallow. But really, once you start to move past it you feel much better." Her words angered me, and I almost took the shears from her grasp and chopped right through the trunk of the…

Nevermind.

"I've tried."

"So have I, it still doesn't work." She turned around and winked at me. Releasing a breathy chuckle, she carried on working on the tree. To say that I was stunned would be an understatement, but slowly the words started to sink in and I began to laugh.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" I questioned impulsively. It only then occurred to me that I didn't know a thing about gardening, flowers or trees. Esme turned around to face me once more, and studied my expression. With a slight smile, she shook her head.

"Thank you for the offer, all the same."

"Well would you like me to leave you to it? Or would you like my company? Or can I go out and get you something?" Esme shook her head at everything I suggested, so I resolved to go for a hunt. The burn in my throat had been steadily increasing as I spoke to Esme, and now I feared that the creature would attempt to make its ugly presence known.

"Is it alright if I go for a hunt? Is there a particular area I'm not allowed in?" Esme paused at my second question and raised a finger in the air while she thought. I waited stiffly for her verdict.

Finally she told me what she had been thinking for the past two minutes.

"I don't know if you'll go that far north, but I should warn you there's a line we cannot cross in the area." She walked inside and came back out with a battered old map. Sighing she said, "Of course none of this will mean much to you but you can't cross this point." She pointed to a dark line scribbled onto the paper, spanning at least twenty miles. And she was right; I had no idea where this was.

"I'll show you."

**A/N: Where did Carlisle go?**


	8. The Wolves

**The Wolves**

Well when I had ventured to hunt in the wild Washington forest, I had not anticipated this. Esme had led me to the "treaty line" as she called it and warned me not to cross; to punctuate her point she went as far as to draw a line in the dirt with her shoe. And from the look in her eyes, I could tell she was serious. Cocking my brow, I asked what would happen if I decided to cross this line.

Her eyes turned dark as she took a strong hold of my arm and pulled me far from the edge. "You mustn't," was all she said. I nodded, accepting that she meant it.

"Why can't we cross that line, though?" My brow furrowed now. I didn't like to be told what to do, so it had to be for a good reason. Esme smiled as she pulled us away from the dirt line, still with an iron grip on my arm. Eventually, she would have to answer because I wasn't prepared to give it up.

"Our family have a treaty with the Indian reservation on the coast. As long as we don't cross that line, and as long as we don't bite a human—we can live here. But if we do either of those things, they will declare war on us." I was shocked to say the least. What right did those humans have to challenge a powerful vampire coven?

"And you follow these rules, because…?" I inquired. Esme had not stopped our walk through the forest, despite the whole reason for my asking the question in the first place.

"Because we stick to our word. Also, they were not simple humans when we made the treaty earlier in the century." This puzzled me. What could they possibly be? I thought over the different creatures that the Volturi had taken to destroying over the years. There were only the werewolves. Caius had made it his mission to wipe out every kind of lycanthrope there ever was, sometimes enlisting people from the Guard to come with him on his hunting missions.

Werewolves were frightening sights, and I felt I could completely understand Caius' hatred of the beasts. After all, they had only taken prey from the vampires when their numbers were high. I could remember the hulking shape, hiding in the light of the moon. Their coats had been silvery white, their teeth like gnarled wood and intelligent lupine eyes looked out for their most feared predator. Vampires. But some chose to fight rather than hide.

"_There it is!" Caius called, pointing to the rivers. We focused our gaze on the river, rushing by a hundred feet below; a flash of white disturbed our view. The hunt was on. Caius made the first jump, the rocks crumbling under his impressive weight at the bottom. Lucian, Corin and Iago soon followed. A staccato rhythm of splashing feet chased the wolf as it fled the wooden shack we originally found it in, resting after making its own hunt under the full moon. The stories in the nearby village had been all the evidence Caius needed of the presence of _wolf_._

_We trailed the huge wolf as it struggled against the current of the river, clambering uphill on unsteady rocks. Werewolves were fast, but we could be faster. The wolf had known this and turned to fight, gnashing its teeth. Something Lucian had come to realise over the years was that werewolves were impossible to contain in his icy grip. The soul was too strong, the spirit finding it all too easy to break free of the prison Lucian tried to build. So Lucian had given up._

_But of course, Caius was too frightened to fight the wolves we hunted. He considered the hunt good sport. It was left to me, Corin, Iago and Lucian to conquer the filthy animal; and to avoid its ferocious bite. There was one vampire who had been bitten by a werewolf; the story goes that he underwent the transformation that all humans do after suffering their bite. The vampire became a werewolf-vampire hybrid and has not been found again to this day. So it was with good reason that we avoided the wolf's jaws, despite it being a legend, and not known fact. _

_The wolf roared and swiped at Corin as he reached too closely. Caius stood well back, barking orders like the useless figurehead he was and quivered in his boots. I was tempted to tell the white demon to just head straight for Caius and tear him to shreds. How well would the old vampire fare then? Iago leapt on top of the wolf, taking its neck in his hands. He flexed his hands, threatening to snap its thick neck. _

"_What are you waiting for?" Caius growled. "Take its head from its body!" Iago received his orders well and did as specified, but not before the wolf had knocked Lucian to the ground with his sharp claws. As the crack of bones sounded into the otherwise silent night, the wolf fell limp to the ground. _

"_Well done, Iago!" the patriarch called from a distance. I shook my head in disbelief at the terrified man. He was in no more danger than we were. What would he do if we tip-toed around the large beasts? He would punish us. But slowly, Caius edged closer to us making sure that the wolf was completely dead before he dared set foot nearby. _

_Lucian groaned on the floor, pressing a hesitant hand to the gouges in his skin that the wolf had made. He traced the lines with his finger, three curved cuts in the skin of his torso. I smiled sadistically to him, pleased that he was in pain. After all, he had tormented me since the first time he saw me. _

_Corin approached his friend, offering a hand to help him up. Lucian cried out as he stood, his wounds apparently throbbing under the movement. Iago came to stand beside me as he watched the fool flounder; he placed an arm around my shoulders and pressed me into his side._

"_Good work," I told him. I looked up at him to see his smile. But Iago was far away, at least, in his mind._

The forest faded into view once again, the damp clinging to my clothes and the chirruping of far off birds sounding in the late morning sun. But it was too dull to affect my skin in any way, unfortunately. Esme squeezed my shoulder, a gentle smile gracing her features in understanding. I had done it again.

"Oh I'm so sorry, Esme," I exclaimed. "I keep doing that, ever since Iago left…" Esme nodded, and didn't startle at the unfamiliar name. "Iago left right after the southern wars, to go and find his 'purpose'. He was such a good friend to me, and sometimes I really miss him." I sighed. "I will try my best not to keep remembering my past all the time; after all, you can't have it back or change it. As much as I'd like to."

There was a pause.

"And I've rambled, sorry once more." Esme was thinking of something, which I did not know. Absently, I wondered what it might be like to be Edward. How would it feel to know everything everyone was thinking all the time? I imagined it would be quite discomforting and difficult. A hum of voices in your head at all times… it could drive a person mad. Edward had done remarkably well for someone who was just over 100 years old.

Again, I was reminded of the birth of his mother. It still plagued my mind in the background somewhere—why had I seen her birth? Why was it _so_ important? I had not witnessed Edward's birth, had I? On this, I pondered. Recounting all the births I had seen with my gift; his did not stick out.

1901 had been a miserable year for me, as had the sixteen years before that. Iago's absence took a heavy toll on me, because for the first time I was absolutely and completely alone in my life. And he was all I had! He kept me from my memories which threatened to play over and over again. I did not want to see it, but my guilt insisted. Iago distracted me, and I owed that to him for eternity.

"Esme, what are you thinking of?" I inquired, after a good ten minutes had passed. Clearly whatever she was thinking about was of the utmost importance. "Esme?" I thought this was probably what I looked like while I was watching, but Esme didn't have any gifts as far as I knew. _Esme_ was starting to worry me. When I called her name next, I shook her.

This finally woke her from her reverie. "At last! You were starting to panic me!" Her eyes were apologetic now.

"I was thinking of an Iago that _we_ know and I wondered if it might be the same one." She obviously meant to continue, so I waved her on. "Could you describe your Iago to me please?"

"Dark hair, pale olive skin, red eyes and only slightly taller than me," I replied. Her eyes were alight with excitement. I didn't know if I wanted to meet Iago again, and judging by Esme's expression, she was planning to make a trip.

"Oh, no Esme, I don't want to see him again right now…" She looked startled, confusion pulling her eyebrows together and her mouth into a pout. "The way he left was unfair and cruel to me. I said some things and he said some things—I just can't see it being a good idea to see him again so soon." _Soon_. I scoffed to myself; it had been over a hundred years since we last spoke, since I last saw him. I hadn't watched him, choosing not to watch him while he found happiness and I rotted in my room in the Volturi castle. At the time, I had thought I would never leave. But I supposed maybe Aro had tired of my dire moods? And, sending me off to find _my_ 'purpose' was simply a ruse.

It certainly fit Aro's personality, he was capable of that. After all, he lied all the time. He asked me once we had returned to Volterra,

"_Why on Earth did you not follow Iago, Isabella? After all, I gave everyone their freedom if they so chose it…"_

Aro had been cruel, too. I knew that if I had tried to follow Iago, Aro would have told me that I was exempt from the proclamation he had made. He would have said, "_Not you, Isabella. Remember your promise_…" It seemed that all I did was remember. I knew that I should not dwell on my past, and I never chose it for myself. My memory chose to plague me with these horrid recollections and there wasn't a damned thing I could do about it! I could not remember my promise; I knew that my judgement had been clouded by grief at the time. That grief could never be allowed to come back; it could only be a dull ache in my heart now.

"Soon? Iago has been with the Denali sisters for at least fifty years. But if you don't wish to see him now then that's okay." She sighed thoughtfully, looking down to the filthy forest floor. "I must warn you though, that they often visit over Christmas time," Esme finished. I nodded, watching her face transform from sadness to a gentle smile. We carried on walking until the back garden came into view again. I could see a clock inside on the wall read one o'clock. We had been out here much longer than I realised, and it was only a matter of time before the five of the family returned from school.

But where was Carlisle? "Esme, you said that Carlisle told you I was unwell. But where did he go to next?" I inquired. Esme looked up suddenly, her eyes on the shrubbery she had been cutting back a few hours before. She rushed forward, taking up her shears again and beginning to trim the leaves and stray branches into a cylindrical shape.

"He said that he had to organise his thoughts. So I would guess that he is up in the mountains somewhere; he has a special place for times like these. You dropped a bomb on him when you showed up here, he's so confused about what he wants and needs that even with all of that extra space in his head…" she trailed off then, looking to the shadows of the forest far ahead. "He's coming back," she smiled.

I turned my focus to where she was looking a long way away, listening for the rustling of dead leaves underfoot. But there was nothing. I listened for five minutes longer before I turned to Esme.

"I can't hear anything," I told her. She put a quieting hand up, dropping her shears and running into the trees. I followed her quick steps easily, keeping up with her almost without effort. About two miles into the woodland, I could finally hear footsteps squelching into the muddy ground. Carlisle swept his wife up into his arms, kissing her on the cheek as he set her down again. He looked to me then.

"Are you okay?" he asked, concerned worry heavy in his eyes. I smiled in encouragement, showing him that I was fine already.

"I'm absolutely fine. I'm sorry that I phased out on you, though. I seem to be doing it more and more often these days," I replied. "It's become a nuisance." Carlisle nodded. Taking my hand and leading us both back to the Cullen house. Esme was tucked under his arm, an easy calm coming over him in her presence. She really _was_ perfect for him.

Carlisle made light chatter for the walk, talking of inconsequential things such as the patients he was caring for at the moment, and the annoyingly shrill laughter of one of the nurses at the hospital. He said that you might compare her to one of those phones that were sold in mass during the 1980s. We laughed at the comparison, commiserating over the irritating ring tone that seemed to quite literally _ring_ in your ears for hours afterwards. And after the laughter had died down, we fell into silence.

That silence lasted until we found ourselves in the back garden again and I was just about to head into the house again. Carlisle called out, meaning to stop me from leaving his view. He came to walk me into the kitchen where he asked me a most surprising question.

"Would you like to stay here longer?" I started, shocked by the very idea that my presence would be prolonged here. "You don't have to stay for very long, you can leave whenever you like. I'm just trying to make it clear that you are welcome to stay as long as you like. I think I speak for most, if not all of the family."

"I wasn't expecting _this_," I finally said, clutching a hand to my chest. I kept waiting for my heart to beat into my hand; I kept wishing that it might do so again. But every time I would set my hand there, I would be filled with terror when the silence came again. I would think, 'This isn't right' again.

Now as I stood in this kitchen, the motionlessness of my heart met me again and I didn't feel disgust. I didn't pull my hand away, and I could only think 'This is how it will be forever and perhaps this is how I want it to be.' I could only thank the Cullens for that.

"Thank you," I spoke fervently. "I promise I won't outstay my welcome!" I exclaimed quickly, pulling Carlisle into my arms in a hug. He returned it, slowly putting his hands around me as well. "Thank you so much, Carlisle."

"That's all right," he said softly before pulling out of my grip and wiping drops of venom from my eyes. I hadn't even felt them. "But I'm sorry I made you cry," he laughed. I took a step back from him, wiping away the tears where he couldn't reach comfortably. "How do you cry?" he asked with furrowed brows.

"Haven't you ever…?" Carlisle shook his head. "Hmmm, how strange. Can any of the others cry?" Again, Carlisle shook his head. "It must be something to do with that evolution thing Aro was looking into. He found that some significant changes had occurred between the old and the new vampires," I explained. He was very interested now, leaning down to hear me better—a human habit I knew well.

"Please go on," he urged. A look which said he thought himself quite inappropriate passed over his face, and he moved to lean back against the kitchen counter. I cast him a confused look before I continued in my speech.

"Aro found that the elder vampires aged, at least, in some capacity. Of course, they still looked as they had done when they were changed. But some changes came upon them over the years; their eyes became unclear somehow and they couldn't read the words upon the pages of a book without the aid of 'reading glasses' as they called them. It's a common term now, however back in the 1800s Caius and Aro were embarrassed by their strangely hindered sight. Marcus didn't care.

Another change that came upon them was the thinning of their skin. I don't think you've seen the elders but their skin is very… wasted. Old veins are visible beneath the skin now, but no-one would ever dare to say a word about it lest they get themselves a swift death. It's all very embarrassing for the elders, and I'm quite sure Aro would _not_ be pleased if he ever found out I had told you. This was his own special project. He even made a chart of vampiric evolution." I laughed slightly at this, not in the least bit interested but clear Carlisle was.

"They're almost the oldest vampires in existence now." I choked up, thinking of Henry and Ember, and how they had met their ends. "Except for the Romanians Vladimir and Stefan, I can't think of anyone older." Carlisle put a reassuring hand on my arm, and suddenly Esme was there with me, putting an arm around my shoulders. They both smiled gently, sharing a secret message between them.

In Esme's face there was concern, and in Carlisle's understanding. I appreciated their kindness from the bottom of my heart, and told them so. I also thanked them for offering to have me stay longer. Esme paused for a moment before she spoke.

"I think, if you're going to be staying here for any length of time we will have to have you enrolled at the High School in town."

_Oh no! I'm not ready for that yet. And I would fail every class! _Was the first thing I thought, before I began to protest.

"I'm sorry Esme but I can't do that, I was only given a very basic education by the Volturi and I'm not nearly ready to go into a crowded school like that." I scrambled to prevent this catastrophe, this terrible happening. There was absolutely no possibility of me going to school. It simply wasn't achievable. I would kill the first human who came too close to me. I had only been 'on the wagon' for five years! "No, you simply can't put me into school; I've only been off human blood for five years. It's too risky. And you have such a wonderful home here; I don't want to ruin your good reputation here by association…" I rambled on, probably becoming more and more nonsensical as I went on.

"Stop!" a new voice called. I turned to look in the doorway where the voice came from. There stood the Cullen children, Alice with an outstretched hand. I thought that my mouth was still forming words when Alice came to press her fingers against my mouth, effectively ceasing any more protestation I might have. "Stop panicking, Isabella. You're talking faster than the speed of light." I stared dumbly back at her.

"Thank you!" Emmett sighed, and moved into the living room, Edward trailing behind him.

"So Isabella is staying with us?" Alice asked without asking. "Good. Now that is settled, I can take you to Port Angeles for some new clothes. The clothes on your back will do no good for school." I started to stutter out a response, but still Alice's hand was on my mouth.

Pushing it away, I said, "I'm not able to go to school with you."

"We have appearances to keep up, as you just said Isabella. Therefore, you will be heading into school with us before the week is out. Trust me, you won't hurt anyone." I was reminded of the sight Alice had, she could see that I would not hurt anyone. But wasn't it subject to change?

"It could change Alice, you said so yourself."

"It won't," Alice swiftly replied. I sighed now, but in exasperation rather than relief as Emmett had. "Don't outstay your welcome Bella, we let you stay with us and all we ask in return is that you go to school."

Emotional blackmail.

"_Alice_." Her face lit up in a smile, and she turned to Esme.

"You need to set up a meeting with Mr. Greene," she said before she scampered off somewhere with Jasper on her tail. I gave a pleading look to Rosalie, who stared archly back at me before she turned into the living room.

So it was that I would go to school, for the first time in my long, long life.

**A/N: Unbeta'd and unedited, but I got it to you. I'm really very sorry for the wait! :O**


	9. Frustrations

**Frustrations**

"How much do you know, Isabella?" Alice inquired. The family had taken me to sit at the head of the large, oak table, with the obvious intention of finding out my capabilities. So I sat, staring at the tabletop, while the six who had no engagements elsewhere picked my brains for information. I knew they would be putting me into some kind of special programme at the school, for I knew nothing of what they suggested.

What on earth was pi supposed to mean? Why was this so important to them in mathematics? And while I was on the subject, why didn't they tell me what Pythagoras' Theorem was? They were doing their homework, showing me what they had to do, but still almost expecting me to know.

Like it was obvious.

Esme seemed to be a little bit more understanding. She read the confused looks on my face and cared enough to attempt to explain. But what was Edward's excuse? He could hear exactly what I was thinking and he sat there, carrying on with his work. I glared at his studious face. _EDWARD_!

He jumped in his seat, and looked in my direction before I turned to face Alice.

"I don't have the faintest idea of what you're talking about Alice, I'm sorry." She nodded sadly, going back to her work. "Don't you see why I'm so reluctant to go to school, Alice? Isn't it very obvious as you're trying to explain to me how one would use pie to find the area of a circle? What has PIE got a damned thing to do with it, anyway?" I slammed my hand on the table in frustration, storming out of the place and heading back to my own room.

Letting out a breathy sigh as I entered the calm blue of my room, I leapt onto the bed and lay back. I snarled in irritation, pressing my face into the softness of the pillow. If muffled the sound, thankfully; but I knew without a doubt that I could still be heard on the ground floor.

If I had wanted or needed to learn any of this, I _would_ have! Aro had taught me addition and subtraction—nothing unnecessary. Nothing more and nothing less. The simple things. He had taught me to read, and write. That was all I had needed and wanted to know in the Guard. So why did humans need to learn any of the things they did now?

"They don't need half the stuff they learn, and they forget a lot of it. But that doesn't change that you have to learn it, if you want to blend in." I turned to meet Edward's eyes. He was cautious, and lingered in the doorway waiting to be allowed in or shooed away. "Also, they have the chance to go on and have steady jobs after they leave school. This is something my siblings and I don't get the chance to do, a lot of the time. We are too young, just as you are." Satisfied that he wouldn't be thrown out, Edward stepped further inside and sat down on the edge of the bed.

"And you're perfectly satisfied with sitting through hours upon hours of pointless work, to do a job that you'll never get the chance to do?" I asked honestly, if with a little sarcasm. What he said made sense, what he said was so right… but so _wrong_. It was unfair that we should be separate from the other students and that we should live as we do in schools forever and ever.

"I do what I have to." Edward smiled gently as he came to rest on the edge of the bed, sitting gingerly with his hands rested carefully on his knees. He didn't look at me, but nor anything else. He looked empty, and the smile on his face seemed to hold no worth. Edward was much better at hiding his feelings than I ever hoped to. Even though I had vowed to.

"Are you making a study of me, Isabella?" he said, grinning. "And you're wrong you know; you can't hide your feelings from anyone in this house while Jasper is around. Or me."

Now he looked at me.

"And school isn't as hard as all that, it's just that the first time will always be hardest." He put a cautious hand on my shin in an effort of comfort. "I know that my first day seemed impossible." A wistful grimace came onto his face. He squeezed his hand around me once.

"You'll be in a learning disabled class, Isabella. No-one will laugh. I promise. And you'll have lots of support. You'll have us to fend off any humans who come too close at lunch." Alice spoke in a rush at the doorway, short and sharp pauses in between each new point.

"Even better, just don't make me go," I murmured under my breath resentfully.

"Sadly that's not an option if you want to hang around here," Alice replied unhappily. "We all know how you feel, Isabella. But Carlisle knows it best. Why don't you ask him about it when he comes back?" With that, she was gone, her steps a staccato rhythm on the wooden panelled floorboards.

This I thought seemed like a reasonable idea.

"Carlisle will be back before midnight, which is in—" he peered up at the clock on my wall, "—about six hours." Edward smiled mutely before he too left the room; I guessed he was off to do more homework. And what did I have to do, but lay back on my bed? I could remember things I'd prefer to forget, the bittersweet memories with Iago in the Guard. The way he had protected me from the other vampires; and those faraway eyes, both were huge parts of who Iago was.

I did and I didn't want him back in my life, existence, mind. Of course he had already infected nigh on every memory I had, but that wasn't his fault. It was a result of the hundreds of years we had known each other. It was a result of how I had relied on him. I could be certain of our detachment if he hadn't shown such kindness to me, or if he had merely protected me from Lucian. He was my confidant and my companion for so long, I didn't know if I would ever let go of him if I didn't have some closure. If I never saw him again, if I did not see him even in my dying moments then I would die a lonely woman.

I hoped I would stay until Christmas, so I could see him happy and at peace. I found it hard to imagine Iago in the company of so many women however, as Aro had told me of the coven in Alaska. "_The original succubus_," he had hissed the 's' in reverence—it smacked of an experience between them but before my time. I had never bothered to ask. I wondered if he was with one of them, or with all of them. Did he love them? Did he love _her_? What made her more important than _me_?

Gah! It was useless. What good could come of these ridiculous thoughts? But he had hurt me with his words, and he had hurt me by leaving me. He was responsible for everything that went wrong after he left me. I blamed him for the mistakes and strange occurrences in the past hundred years. _He_ made me see false things.

Him and him alone. This was his fault. He was the reason why I was so ill in the head; Iago had not tried to make me feel better about Ransley or Henry. He had done nothing! It was not money that was the root of all evil, but Iago! I hated him and I didn't want to see him EVER again!

I roared, climbing to my feet and punching the wall in anger. It quivered under my hand and I pulled my hand back to my face, covering my features in horror. _What had I become_? What sort of savage did he reduce me to? With my head in my hands, I curled up on the soft carpeted floor and dry-sobbed.

I only wanted them back.

I heard Carlisle's car roll into the garage just at the time Edward had said; the sound of the stuttering engine as it died out filled my ears. There was the sound of the keys being pulled out, the gathering of files and bags and then the lock of the door turning. I wished his steps would move faster.

"Isabella got herself into a state, Carlisle. Perhaps you could help her?" Edward murmured lowly at the foot of the stairs. Carlisle paused, I guessed to ask Edward a question in his head.

"She has a lot of issues surrounding Iago—yes, the very same—and she was struggling with the math we were doing earlier. She's not sure about how she will adjust to everything. And she has a lot of self-hatred over people called Ransley and Henry…" Edward paused this time. "Have you heard of them before, Carlisle?" He sounded cautious, _as he should be_, for pulling out my thoughts in that way! What right did he have to…?

I could feel my anger building again and stopped that thought in its tracks. Edward was concerned for me. He didn't want Carlisle to say the wrong thing. Yes, these were valid explanations.

"They're not names in my memory; most likely before my time, Edward. She was with the Volturi for a very long time as you will have probably heard in her thoughts."

I was tired of listening; I wanted to _see_ what they were discussing. I turned my vision on the ground floor of the house, by the stairwell. Carlisle looked upset, heavy creases in his forehead making him look ages older than he was at the time of change. Edward on the other hand, looked downright distraught. I supposed this was because everything I felt and thought, he felt with the very same weight. Poor Edward.

"You had better go up to speak to her because I'm not sure what to say." Edward put his head in his hands, covering his face. With that Carlisle walked up to his office to set his work down, and then proceeded up the stairs towards my room.

Carlisle knocked three times on the wood of my door. I grumbled that he could come in, and so he did—turning the doorknob with care and silently going to sit on the sofa nearby. I wondered what his expression was, did he look disappointed? Was he concerned just as when he had spoke to Edward? To answer these thoughts, I turned my head to the side to see his face. He was leaning down to touch a hand to my back, wary eyes and a steady hand reminded me of no-one else I had met before.

He was so kind to me; I wondered what I had done to deserve it.

"Edward tells me you are under a lot of stress, and he says you feel useless and distraught over some things that happened before you met me." He paused his speech, searching for protest I supposed. "I'm not expecting an explanation but I would like to be able to help you with some of these issues. The maths work for one. And any other work you may encounter at school… I can help you with all of it Isabella. I went through the exact same things. I remember that we _just weren't taught_ any of the things children are taught and retain for most of their lives today. I would think that a child of ten years old today knows more about maths than a common shopkeeper did when we were alive.

"It was all new to me when I first started looking into education, started becoming interested in joining the medical profession. _I know_. So please don't censor yourself, ask of the family whatever you like. It's probably very difficult for you to swallow your pride and admit that someone not even a quarter of your age knows more than you do," he chuckled at that. "But that is just how things are today. I'm very sorry for it."

I sighed, agreeing with almost everything he had said. I bit my lip, considering the thought of how much young people knew these days. I knew that the change was drastic. But I also knew most of the people in the Cullen family had encountered the same difficulties over the years. Realistically, I knew they wouldn't judge me. But it still took all of my courage, and my entire _throat_ to swallow my pride.

I looked up to Carlisle, a small smile on my face to let him know I was OK. "I heard your conversation with Edward, Carlisle," I murmured into the carpet. "It is Iago who drives me to points of madness. I really hope I didn't damage your wall." With a grimace, I rose to my feet and checked the feel of the wall where I had punched it. It was cracked, but no real structural damage had come to it. _Thank goodness for that_.

Timidly, I turned to face Carlisle with a sorry look on my face. In return, he reached out a hand to me as a show of peace and I took it readily. He drew me into his side, where I couldn't see his face. Why did he hide it? I pushed my head up to glimpse his expression, and he looked so… hurt. I wondered if something terrible had happened in his work today.

"Carlisle?" I whispered. He turned his head down, and his eyes were glassy, his mouth downturned. "What's wrong?" He only scrunched up his mouth, and then looked straight ahead into the forest. But when I tried to sit up, his arm was like steel around my middle so I couldn't move away from him. "Please, Carlisle," I whimpered, pushing a hand up to turn his face around again.

A shadow appeared in the doorway; it was the figure of Esme and her own face was lighted with worry. She strode in and took Carlisle's face in her hands while his jaw clenched and unclenched beneath them. Esme looked to me for explanation, wanting communication from _someone_.

"He is… very upset about how Isabella feels," a voice called from the ground floor. "He wants to help her but he knows that he can't really do anything to make it better. It frustrates him." Edward then also appeared in the doorway, one hand in the pocket of his trousers and another lying limp at his side. He seemed to want to do something with it but wasn't sure how.

It was at that point Carlisle broke out of his thoughts and responded to Esme's coaxing and reaching. It was only then that his hold on me was released and I able to console him properly. It seemed like Carlisle had done nothing but console _me_ since I arrived here, and that pained me. I didn't want him to be my caregiver or my father—I wanted him as my friend with the good times there alongside the times where he helped me at my lows. Friendship had two sides to it and right now, he was my friend. I wasn't his.

But it didn't make sense for him to care so much, already. Just as I had thought before, we weren't yet the best of friends—we did not have the connection I'd had with Ransley. And still, I feel sure of my own great devastation if something should happen to Carlisle. Where would I go _then_? Perhaps this was a connection not by growth; but by strength. Maybe, in the deep recesses of mine and his minds, we were meant to be together. A connection so strong that neither of us, I didn't think, could walk away from.

Of course, this was all ludicrous, but I could dream.

"You could be onto something, Isabella," Edward said quickly, before the thought could escape. "It's not entirely unlikely. There's something similar between Carlisle and myself, and Carlisle and Esme. Because really, isn't Carlisle all of our fathers… at least in some capacity." I cocked my head to the side, considering. "I think the change is something so personal, we will always cling to the vampire responsible. We will always feel a pull back to them." Edward came to sit on the bed across from me. "Just a thought."

I turned to Carlisle, to see what he thought of what Edward had just explained. He looked to be trying to piece what Edward had said together to find out what the original thought was. A beat passed before understanding came into his eyes.

"I think I know what you're speaking of, Edward. The blood relation between vampires?"

I found myself cutting him off.

"Near to that, just the presence of another vampire during the change can create a tie between them so strong that time cannot crush it." I felt silly saying it now… but then, why did I feel so guilty about how things ended with Henry? I felt sure I hated him at the time, but now six hundred years later, I was still regretting the last things I had said to him. The final words I had hissed through my teeth; _you won't know what hit you until it does… _

Carlisle nodded in agreement, a slight smile on his lips. He took Esme's hand in his and pulled her onto the sofa between us. "It's entirely possible."

Another beat passed between our small group before Edward's voice sliced through the silence. "Do you want help with some of the school things, now or later?" Inwardly, I sighed in exasperation and exhaustion. Over six hundred years old and I had to learn all of this useless maths and science that I would never have any use for, in the whole world in the next thousand years that I might live. Yet, I needed to know it in order to blend in.

I would do it for Carlisle.

**A/N: This has to be the most ridiculous and appalling gap I have ever had. I am so sorry. :O If you're still with me, thank you very much!**


	10. Moving On

**Moving On**

A week later, the Cullen children piled into their respective cars for school and I had a new identity. Esme had gone into the school just a few days before on Friday to enrol me as a sophomore in Forks High School. I was Isabella Swenson—not Swan because of the name of the local police chief. It seemed ridiculous to change my name because of such a coincidence, but I could only guess the Cullens wanted to play things as safely as they could. After all, there looked to be quite a resemblance as I had seen him wandering around the town. Chief Swan had brown hair and seemed to have a similar facial structure to my own. I shrugged as Esme and Carlisle told me of the change; it made little difference to me what name I went by.

Edward had been kind enough to offer me the front seat of the silver car he drove usually, though I felt guilty for pushing his siblings out into a second vehicle. I felt I deserved to walk, but none of the Cullens would hear of it.

**. . .**

"_You don't even know where the school is!" Alice had exclaimed on Sunday night, poring over her textbooks and writing a note every now and then in her exercise book. I hadn't bothered to look at what she was reading, too embarrassed by the obvious issue with walking by myself. _

"_You could draw me a map," I mumbled in reply._

"_Not a chance," Alice said crossing something out in her book vigorously._

"_And it would look strange if you walked into school separately from us when you sit with us at lunch. How did you know us? Why did the Cullens accept her into their group when no-one else has a chance? What's up the uncanny resemblance between them all?" Edward murmured from the piano bench. "It's simply ridiculous, I won't hear of it and I'm sure no-one else will either," he continued, turning to me. _

"_Here, here," said a general chorus of vampires across the house. _

"_You can ride shotgun in the Volvo with me and Alice," Edward told me, then he turned to the piano and started playing a nameless piece by a composer I didn't know._

**. . .**

It wasn't long before we pulled into the car park of Forks High School, a light rain starting to fall as Alice and Edward took confident steps out of the car and away from their doors. Meanwhile, I cowered within the confines of the car, fearful of the onslaught of human essence. Alice tapped on the glass in my window, a gentle smile upon her face that was meant to comfort me.

"Come on, Isabella, no-one will bite." She chuckled to herself under her breath, but I also thought there was a warning underlying the sweetness of the dry humour. "I've seen it," she finally said. I looked ahead to Edward where he stood by the bonnet of the car. I could see him nod minutely, and took that as enough assurance for me to step out and brave the smell. Taking a deep breath in of clean air, I opened the door and stepped out.

The scent of freshly fallen rain permeated the air in my first breath, the moisture clouded in my lungs. Then as I walked around to the front of the car, a girl passed by on her way over to see her friends. The rich perfume of her blood rushed towards me in the breeze of her movement; I tensed, waiting for the creature to break the bars apart. It seemed merely to rattle on the poles, calling out in a wail before giving up when it saw my will was strong. I was determined that I would _not_ lose control. Five years on the wagon, for Ember, I could do this.

"Well done," Edward praised quietly to my left. He smiled slightly when I looked to him before he patted my arm in reassurance. Alice was there too, taking my hand freely and squeezing it in the same kind of comfort.

"Let's go," she said, apparently encouraged by my success. She tugged on my hand, pulling me along to the school office where she told me I had to fill in a few forms. _Easy_, Alice promised. And to my surprise, it was—the forms were very simple with the information about myself the Cullens had fabricated. Isabella Swenson, biological parents 'Jack' and 'Sally' killed in a car accident… Esme was my cousin twice removed. I had to stifle a laugh at the simplicity of it all. For so long I had been cut off from this world completely, by my own making perhaps, but I hadn't thought I would ever need to integrate myself in society like this.

In some ways it was liberating; I could be normal too, I could do what every other teenager in the Western world had the right to do. In that sense, it made me feel more human, something I hadn't felt for many years. Of course, this was before the burn set in, paralysing me to the point that I almost couldn't move. The creature jarred the bars, screamed and shouted, pointed to the redheaded secretary with promise. For a split second I could feel myself nodding with glee, imagining taking the woman down by her neck and—nothing. Carlisle, Alice, the Cullens as a whole… Ember. Not for Ember.

I would never betray my promise to her. _Never_.

"You're all ready to go now Ms. Swenson. Make sure you get those slips signed," the secretary reminded me gently. Her warm scent wafted over to me in little puffs, it took every ounce of my effort not to do it, but I was determined. This small enclosed space would not claim my sanity and my humanity too. At least, what little I had gained in the last five years. I wanted to try.

"Thank you," I replied quickly, taking the slips from her hand before hurrying back out into the cool air. Alice waited there smiling kindly at me with her bag slung casually over her shoulder. It was as if nothing had happened. As if I had not just saved that woman's life. Didn't Alice see my resolve faltering?

"Are you okay?" Alice looked concerned now. "Isabella?"

I shook my head. "I don't know how I can spend the rest of the day like this. I just nearly killed that woman in there… it was difficult to resist but I managed it. I don't know if the students of Forks High School will be so fortunate," I grumbled threateningly. I was angry with myself for putting myself in this situation, for giving in to what they wanted. I would destroy this family before I helped it.

"I've seen it Isabella, this day will end well. There is simply no other possibility. It is as clear to me as you are standing right here, Isabella. So please, trust me. Trust my sight." Her serious tone was filled with confidence, it seemed impossible _not_ to believe her. I thought about how I would feel if she started saying that my sight was telling me the wrong thing, and I realised that it would offend me if she did such a thing. I realised my error immediately. Reluctantly I nodded and gave her an apologetic smile. "Good," Alice said finally. She looked back over to the car park a shy smile on her face as she spied Rosalie's red car driving in with Emmett and Jasper.

Alice grabbed my hand and pulled me along to where Rosalie parked alongside Edward's car. Jasper climbed out carefully so as not to draw attention to himself and took Alice in his arms, they embraced briefly before breaking apart. Alice took my hand again and took my subject slips out of the other hand.

"English with Mr. Mason first hour," Alice observed thoughtfully. "No-one's in that class from our family, Isabella." She looked sad at this. "Maybe we can arrange something?" She smiled hopefully. I knew I certainly wanted the help and support for such control.

"Please do," I replied.

"Edward has English first period too so…ah." Alice ducked her head. "No-one can change set. I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking." I gave her a confused look.

"Why not?"

"Because you're bottom set, Edward is top set. It just can't happen, it would raise awareness of us—we try to keep a low profile." This was very reasonable. I knew it would be unfair to Edward if I pulled him down with me; Edward would just be bored all the time and he would resent my presence for putting him _into_ the boring lesson. Anyway, the Cullens had to keep a low profile.

"Will I be bottom set in every lesson?" I inquired timidly, looking at the slips in my hand for any indication as to what it all meant. There were letters and numbers in the corner, but they didn't make sense to me. I pointed to them for Alice to decipher.

"E for English, S for sophomore and 3 for set 3. And yes, Esme put you in bottom set for all of your subjects. But if you turn out to be really good at something and you start improving they can just bump you up." I nodded gratefully, smiling slightly. I was beginning to believe that I might actually manage my classes. Maybe the work wouldn't be as hard as I imagined. I hoped. Maybe… if I could get past the smell of human blood, I would be safe.

I suddenly became aware of the hundreds of human teenagers flooding the car park, it was bustling with so much life that I felt claustrophobic with the energy. There were so many people, so many scents and emotions. On one end of the car park a girl was crying about something with her friends, on the other a couple kissed passionately against a car. On one end was the beautiful smell of wild flowers, while more downwind was the scent of exotic spices from the Far East. The contrast was overwhelming and made me yearn for the blood I could smell everywhere around me. It was a disturbing place to be, and I hoped I wouldn't ever again have to stand in the car park in the morning for long.

A tap on my shoulder roused me from my daydream. Edward stood next to me, and I suddenly realised I hadn't been aware of him for at least half an hour. He seemed to have completely disappeared for a time.

"Hello Edward," I greeted him.

"Isabella," he replied with a nod. "Do you want me to show you where your classroom is?"

"Yes, please."

We walked in silence to the front building of the school, hands in pockets and eyes straight ahead. But it wasn't uncomfortable, I didn't think. We had sorted out any differences we might have had at first when he started to teach me basic maths and science. I had it all clear in my head now and I had our relationship clear too. We were friends, we could get on well enough and it was simple.

**. . .**

"_Did you ever see anything else?" Edward suddenly asked. He was teaching me about the different chambers of the heart; the question came from nowhere. _

"_Pardon?" _

"_My grandfather Al and my mother, did you ever have any more visions of them? Anything momentous that might have called your sight to them?" He was looking at me intently, holding my gaze while he clicked his pen and put it down. I thought for a moment, pondering any impromptu sightings I could remember in the past hundred years. Nothing immediately came to mind._

"_No, I'm sorry Edward." He had already heard it in my mind and looked disappointed—understandably so. I sighed as I thought of how I would feel if I ever found out more about Ransley or Henry, their presence in my mind was inescapable. But I liked it that way; it was my punishment for my foolishness. They would remain shadows in my memory forever._

"_I'm sorry," Edward said softly, taking my hand in comfort. _

"I'm_ not," I said before thinking. Of course he would hear the lie in my thoughts. He smiled carefully before picking up his pen and starting to gesture to the work in front of us._

**. . .**

We stopped outside a classroom then. The doorway loomed ominously to my left, low grey light seeping out into the corridor. I didn't like the look of my new classroom, grimacing at the chalkboard and set up of the room. It was very uniform and regimental, despite the obvious attempts to brighten the room on the walls. Bright yellow paper was mounted onto the wall where a dozen efforts at poetry where stuck. On another wall was a display on a Shakespeare play I had never heard of, lines were pasted all over purple coloured paper.

I didn't think I was going to enjoy this.

"Give it a chance," Edward murmured ahead of me, willing my eyes to meet his face. "You may not have had the same start in life as the rest of my siblings—excluding Jasper—but you're still smart. You got frustrated when you didn't understand, which shows a _willingness_ to understand. We weren't treating you like someone who knows nothing, as our teachers so often tell us to do." He laughed at this for a moment, obviously I was missing an inside joke. "Sorry, but you'll come to understand soon. Anyway, you have an advantage most other humans don't."

"What's that?"

"A photographic memory; it really helps in the exams." Again, I seemed to be missing a joke. "And again, you will come to understand." Edward smiled encouragingly. "It really isn't that bad."

The bell rang, and with that last word Edward sauntered off to his own lesson. I watched him go sadly, wishing I shared the classroom with him. I hoped my fellow human classmates were as friendly as Alice always seemed to be. Then I prayed I would be able to control myself.

**A/N: Again with the lateness, I'm sorry. I had a lot of trouble writing this chapter and I also had a lot of school work to do too, so that accumulates to about 2 months wait. Eek. Sorry again! Thank you for sticking with me this long! I _WILL _finish this, I am determined to. It cannot be left unfinished. So I hope that's some consolation? **


	11. Somewhere between Hope and Happiness

**Somewhere between Hope and Happiness**

At the end of the week I had yet to let my control slip, despite much encouragement from the creature in the back of my mind. It had pointed, sniffed in indignation, and rattled on the bars. But I had held my will. I felt it boded well for the rest of my non-human drinking life, and the Cullens seemed to agree. One of them would congratulate me at the end of the day when we arrived home. But I was very glad of the weekly hunting expeditions I would take with Jasper, who I knew spent more time drinking from humans than animals like me. I didn't know, however, how we would get along alone. So I hoped we could put behind us any of the disputes we might have had before and move forward. Maybe we could be friends, too? I smiled at the thought.

Of course, some of the other Cullens would come sometimes but it would, without fail, be with Jasper each week. Every Saturday. I was optimistic as he had approached me with the question on Wednesday at lunchtime, while everyone was at the table.

**. . .**

"_Is nine o'clock to leave, this Saturday okay?" he asked me, directly focusing on me. There was no way he could be talking to anyone else at the table. I was surprised at the request._

"_What for?" I inquired. "Where would we go?" _

"_Hunting, Isabella. Your eyes are already starting to darken up slightly; it's about time you went. No-one should be at school thirsty." The Cullens all nodded in agreement._

"_You should go weekly, too," Alice piped up helpfully. "That will help to make sure you don't ever slip—I know you're afraid of that."_

"_Speaking of eyes darkening, Jasper you're getting too thirsty as well," Edward put in, communicating some unspoken message in his eyes to Jasper. Both of them nodded minutely and left me wondering what it was all about._

_I was shy to speak my mind completely on that, so went for a toned down response to it. "Would you like to share it with the table?" I murmured. Emmett laughed under his breath and smiled at me; I could tell that was exactly what he had been thinking._

"_Just about a little area of woods I don't like," Edward answered. I quirked my brow in question, looking to both men; I didn't quite believe Edward. I could see his mouth twist up on one side in amusement before he quickly covered it. Sighing, I decided to let the issue go._

"_So where will we go, Jasper?" I asked. He sat up at this, having slumped into his seat after my previous enquiry. He picked up his prop drink can and spun it around and around in his hand. Some kind of distraction?_

"_To the north of the house, but not so far as Canada."_

**. . .**

Here I lay on my bed again, pondering on the week's events and wondering what lay ahead. It had been an extraordinary thirteen days with the Cullens. I had met Carlisle finally and made a new friend in him, as well as Edward and Alice; the others seemed reluctant. Esme was more of a mother to me than a friend though, on the outskirts but comforting when I needed it. These were all relationships I needed to build on while I had time to, while this piece of good luck lasted.

Breathing out I sat up and looked at the clock on the wall, it read eight o'clock. I had only an hour before the trip with Jasper started, suddenly a feeling of dread twisted in my gut. I knew my feeling to be ridiculous; Jasper and I had sorted out our differences in a way, we had come to an understanding. I wouldn't hurt him while he didn't hurt me. I knew my ties to the Volturi frightened him, though he did his best to hide it. He tensed up whenever I was close to him, made a point of our skins not touching. He kept his distance. I was comfortable with that. I was only displeased that he tried to keep Alice away from me as much as he could while he was there. He would subtly claim her hand from mine, as she so often held it. He would claim her attention while she helped me along with my homework. I wondered if Alice knew the real reason why Jasper needed her to find him a new shirt every evening on the computer.

But I was hopeful. There was still much to talk about from the first time we met, and I wanted the intimation of what _really_ happened out there to clear the air between us. I was hopeful.

A gentle tune started up on the piano downstairs then, twinkling and light in the air. Edward was playing, I saw. He looked pensive as he watched where his fingers reached on the white keys. He stopped then, and looked right to where I was watching him. Clearly he could see in my mind what I was watching.

"Come down, Isabella," he said. That was all the prompt I needed. I leapt off the bed and stood by his side at the piano in less than a second. He looked up at me and gestured for me to sit beside him. "I've been trying to figure this one out, testing different notes in my mind; but nothing works like the real thing." He started playing the same tune he had started with, his hands moving over the keys swiftly and carefully. I felt mesmerised by the ease of his movement, taking in the melody and feeling the happiness that lay beneath it. Edward was happy. I wished I could be as happy as he sounded, wished I could play something as effortlessly as he did. But I was never one for music.

"What's it called?" I asked him, looking up at his face while he still worked the keys. He was concentrating hard, his brow furrowed and mouth pinched. There was a long pause while he reached the end of the musical phrase. He stopped and looked to me.

"I'm not sure. I thought if you named it I would find a direction to go with it and finish the piece. It's been bothering me for quite some time." He smiled sheepishly as I gazed back at him in shock.

"You want me to name it?" He nodded. "Oh well, I don't know either. What kind of title do you want?" Edward laughed then at the futility of his request. I had never been one for music and here I was expected to name a song for him! "I really don't know, Edward!" I laughed then with him, smiling at the ridiculousness of the moment. "You _must _have seen in my mind that I don't really listen to music!" I think the indignation in my voice fuelled his amusement even more, as he clutched his stomach in laughter. I huffed then, pulling a wayward hair back to the side of my face. "I don't know what you want from me," I laughed, gesturing with my hands between us.

Eventually Edward calmed his laughter, and sat up properly again. He was still smiling though. "What does it make you feel then? That could help me," he suggested.

"Happiness," I answered quickly. Edward nodded as he started to play the piece again, placing new accents on different notes. It seemed different now somehow, in what it was communicating. The happiness was still there, but it was something new. _Longing_? _Hope_? It was somewhere along those lines. "Somewhere between hope and happiness," I finished.

"Thank you, Isabella," he said earnestly.

"It's nine o'clock, Isabella," Jasper called from some distant corner of the house. There was thunder on the steps as he made his way down the stairs. I rose from my seat on the piano bench in seek of a pair of shoes Alice bought me; she'd bought be about six pairs. Jasper was already at the bottom of the stairs by the time I reached the hall and put a pair of training shoes on. He waited patiently while I got myself together, shaking the car keys in his hand absently.

"You're sure I can use your Jeep, Emmett?" he inquired up the stairs.

"Yeah, go ahead," a booming voice replied from the first floor. Jasper nodded once in recognition of this before cocking his head.

"Ready?"

"Yes, thank you." With that Jasper led the way through the door and out to Emmett's big Jeep. A thought occurred to me just as we crossed the threshold. "Bye everyone! Back soon!" A chorus of return farewells called across the house, the closest coming from the piano bench. I could see Edward watching me go as I pulled the front door shut behind me.

Jasper was already in the driver's seat when I reached the door, which was significantly higher up than Edward's silver car. Carefully I pulled the large door open and climbed into the front with him. The next challenge that faced me was the seatbelt system; it was not a hard decision to simply ignore it and settle comfortably into my seat. I wasn't going to die if we crashed.

"I do suggest you put your seatbelt on," Jasper said as he turned on the engine. I looked at him inquisitively. "The ground is bumpy where we're going; you'd probably be more comfortable if you did put it on." Sighing, I decided to try to work out the complex system, with little success. Jasper smirked as he watched me tangle and wrestle with the strips of material before eventually he couldn't bear to watch me any longer. "Here," he said, taking the pieces of belt and making them make sense across my chest.

"Oh." The pieces clicked into place finally and Jasper sat back.

"Let's go." He reversed the Jeep a few feet and turned it around, hurtling us along the long driveway and onto the motorway.

**. . .**

We rested on opposite rocks in some unknown wood to the north of Forks. Jasper had just drained a couple of deer, quickly and precisely before discarding them. His eyes were bright gold, a clear sign of satisfaction.

"But it still never really hits the spot," Jasper said sadly. "It doesn't feel like human blood, it doesn't feel like humanity. In a way, I miss that. You can understand that, right?" he implored. "But when I think about how I felt after the first rush, the coldness of their fear just before death, the sweetness of adrenaline in the blood. And then I would feel empty and all that humanity would rush away from me—make my bones heavy."

"Yet nothing compares," I agreed. I knew all too well. Jasper smiled gratefully. It was the least I could do, to empathise with him, to commiserate with him over our long, endlessly tormented lives.

"Everyone in the family started on animal blood, no-one really understands it properly. Edward probably has the best chance of understanding, what with his mind reading. He went to human blood for a time too, but returned to animal blood after just a few years. Everyone else in the family suffers from slip ups every now and then. But that's the extent of the anarchy in our house. It sickens me sometimes." I tried to understand what he was saying, nodding along with him. It surprised me that Edward had ever been _off_ the wagon, just because of his mind reading.

"And everyone is so understanding when I make yet another mistake, because I had a much different start to my vampire life than the others. _You_ know what that's about. But I still feel like a failure, like a waste of effort for them when I make these mistakes. Especially as I _chose_ to change my diet like this. Before I met Alice and joined the Cullens I was going months between drinks, determined to starve myself of blood. I always felt awful after I did it, but I knew eventually instinct would take charge and I would have destroyed a whole town. So I would end up having just one drink; I knew I had to have _something_ to keep it at bay.

"But it's just as you said; nothing else compares." Jasper gestured to the carcasses at his feet. "This doesn't even touch it."

"I know."

**. . .**

A few hours later I had drunk the blood of two deer and one unfortunate bear, which had tasted a great deal nicer than any other animal I had taken from. I asked Jasper why that was:

"Because meat eating animals taste more like humans," he replied matter-of-factly. It seemed an obvious answer now I thought about it. Humans ate meat too, and this was bound to show in their blood.

"It makes sense," I said simply, Jasper nodded in agreement. He seemed cautious to look at me, averting his eyes often and watching something else. This prompted to look down at the state of my clothes; they were torn through, and parts of my breast showed beneath the rags of shirt. "Sorry, the bear got to me," I told him bashfully, attempting to cover myself with my hands, but I knew it wouldn't work. It was at that point Jasper took of the light sweater he was wearing and handed it to me.

"Just take it." Reluctantly I took the fabric from him and threw it over my head. I drowned in the material, and felt quite ridiculous in the obvious men's wear. Jasper stood in a vest and jeans; bite marks stood out all over his arms, shocking me into a defensive position. Jasper raised his brow in what seemed like expectancy, like he was waiting for something. Something kicked in somewhere and made me realise that I was poised to attack someone who had just given me his top. This was _Jasper_, Alice's husband.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry!" I cried as I stood up straight. I was horrified with myself. "I don't know what I was doing…"

Jasper shook his head, "It's fine, I get that all the time."

"It's not _fine_," I whined, mostly to myself. "It shows a certain lack of control for me to do that, so I'm eternally sorry for it, really."

"You were just hunting, a small amount of instinct still had hold of you, Isabella," he consoled sympathetically. "It really doesn't bother me anymore; it's over, so stop panicking."

Sighing, I accepted what he was saying. "Very well, then. But I'm still curious. How many times have you been bitten?"

"One hundred and fifty-five times," he replied promptly. "But I never lost a fight, as you can see." Jasper almost sounded proud, but there was a certain level of resentment in his voice which wouldn't be otherwise noticeable if I wasn't looking for it.

"How long after that fight did you give it up?" I inquired. He had to think about it for about five minutes; he probably hadn't paid very much attention to the time when he was doing it.

"I think… a year afterwards my friends came back, we escaped Maria together." He was wistful, remembering with a slight smile on his face. "Maria was not happy, and to be overpowered by two of her oldest recruits was beyond humiliating. I don't know what happened to her after we left, and nor do I care to know." He was cold in his reflection, watching the wildlife scurry across the treetops above. "She ruined me, so I hope that I ruined her too."

"I can understand that." Iago came to mind. "Did you happen to stumble across Iago on your travels?"

"Iago? You mean Iago in Denali with Kate?" I nodded. "Not before I joined the family here, I didn't ever know him before."

"That's a lie. He was at the battle with me. Didn't you notice him?"

Jasper looked down in thought, considering his memory of the battle. He _must_ have seen Iago. "He was right next to me, Jasper? Do you remember? You looked straight at me and then you looked away."

"I remember seeing you, but I don't very well remember Iago. I was more concentrated on my own survival though," he tried to placate me. "And I left quite soon after the fighting started." I supposed this was supposed to make me feel better, but the idea that Iago had gone unnoticed by someone so involved in the fighting disturbed me a great deal. It was as if he was never there, yet I remembered him so clearly. I remembered his stony gaze and the harsh words he spoke. Yes, he had been there. I mustn't doubt that.

"And maybe you will tell me about the looks you gave me? Please? Edward seemed to think you knew all about it…" Jasper slumped back against the rock he had stood from, crossing his arms over his chest. I could see that he didn't want to say, for whatever reason that was. "Why are you so determined to keep it to yourself, Jasper? It can't be so terrible that you're afraid to tell me."

Reluctant was not a strong enough word for how long he hesitated to say. He opened and closed his mouth, changed positions and moved his head in various directions. But eventually, he gave it up.

"I felt attracted to you, but I could feel an intense sadness in you; I wanted to comfort you." I was taken aback by the revelation. "I'm not attracted to you any longer, please trust me on that, so it's not awkward. I've got Alice now, I don't need anyone else. But at the time…"

"I see." Like any girl, of course I was flattered, and self-consciously pulled a stray hair back behind my hair, straightened the jumper Jasper had given me. Jasper laughed, not missing anything.

"Really, it's all about Alice now. And I would ask you to keep that information to yourself, please."

"Of course," I acquiesced. It had the potential to be embarrassing for _both_ of us. We laughed awkwardly together at the unlikelihood of the situation, sat on top of two rocks in the woods; one wearing the other's jumper and that other person admitting an earlier attraction to the one.

"Friends?"

"I'd like to be friends, Isabella, yes," Jasper replied. He was smiling as widely as I was. I could now claim to have four friends in the world; the prospect of such a thing filled me with joy.

"Thank you Jasper!" I exclaimed, leaping from my seat and wrapping him in a hug. There was a rumble of laughter in his chest while I clung to him and he slowly wrapped his own arms around me. I wasn't even shoulder height on him.

After that conversation, we fed on only a few small things before returning to the Jeep. Jasper drove us back to the Cullen house in what seemed like half the time it took us to get there. We reached home at about eleven o'clock in the evening; Alice was waiting eagerly on the doorstep, ready to pounce on Jasper the moment he stepped out of the car. It was sweet to watch, especially knowing what I knew now. He was completely devoted to her.

When I turned around I saw Edward watching out of his window, a small smile resting upon his face when I looked up. I waved to him, and he waved back. Carlisle stood in the doorway to the house, seemingly waiting for us to step back inside. Soon enough Jasper and Alice had greeted each other properly and led me inside the house with them.

In the living room there sat Rosalie, Emmett and Esme; they were on the edges of their seats. Esme directed for me to sit beside her while everyone settled in. Edward chose to sit on the arm rest beside me, while Jasper and Alice shared the arm chair.

"I believe you're aware of the Alaska coven's regular visits over Christmas, aren't you Isabella?" Carlisle asked me where he stood in front of the fireplace. I nodded in response to his question, and he continued. "Well Tanya has expressed a desire to come down again, on December the eleventh. She is bringing everyone with her—that includes Iago."

My breath caught in my throat at the mention of his name, the very thought that I would be in the vicinity of him in just a mere month. It couldn't happen.

"No, Carlisle. I can't be around when he is. I have to leave. I'll stay until they arrive. Is that okay?" I spoke desperately, pleading with my eyes and begging with my hands. They shook heavily as I thought of Iago. _His words_. He would ruin me. I stood shakily, walking upstairs. "This can't happen."

**A/N: I've done good! lol Two chapters fairly close to each other - I'm proud! :P What are your thoughts of this, then? Poor Isabella...**


	12. Kindness

**Kindness**

_I sighed and put a hand on his back, he turned. I reached my hands out to him and he leant into them. I pulled him to my mouth and kissed him, I kissed Ransley because I didn't want to lose him. The loss of him would be the end of me. Who would save me from the madness that Emily had shown me, then? What would I become? His hands came to cup the back of my head as he held me fast to him. His touch was fervent and carefully measured. He didn't want to hurt me._

_Finally, after what seemed like forever he let me go. He grinned and held me to his chest once more, before he sat us down. Ransley rested his head in my hair and took his first steady breath in for days. "I love you," his muffled voice came thick with emotion. "I'm sorry we didn't meet in another life."_

"_Me too," I replied. _

Tears pricked my eyes and stung as I thought of him. _Ransley_. What would have happened if we had never met? Undoubtedly, he would still be alive. I would probably still be in England, though I did not know whether I would have left Henry if Ransley were not there. Would the Volturi have sent so many if it were only the two of us? Would I have ever met Iago?

Probably not.

"Those thoughts will do you no good, Isabella. They will torture you." Edward leaned in the doorway of my room, much in the same way he had that first night. He lingered for a moment more there before he stepped forward, taking a seat on the sofa across from me.

"I've been having these thoughts for a much longer time than you, Edward, I know very well what they do," I snapped at him angrily, turning and crawling further into the bed. _What right did he have to my thoughts? And what right did he have to tell me what to think?_ I lay my head on the pillow and watched Edward. I scowled at him, making my distaste for his presence here quite clear.

"I know, Isabella, and I'm sorry to have offended you. I try not to listen to what people think, I really do; but your mind intrigues me, and the things that you think are very adult. More adult than I would have thought you could be, frozen as you were at such an age." He hung his head in shame for a moment, and then stood up. In his eyes I could see him considering his path; there was indecision and insecurity there. What would he do next? He moved to sit on the edge of the bed and rested a hesitant hand on my shin. His eyes implored me to listen to him, a darkening golden as they were. "I will try to keep my thoughts to myself as far as your concerns over 'if only'. But now would you please explain to me what went wrong between you and Iago? Why have you left the room just now, in some kind of teenaged tantrum? You're not like that."

I drew in a hasty breath at the word 'tantrum'. Anger boiled in every part of my body, I felt as though I was burning with the desire to leave the room. How _DARE_ he?

I slapped his hand away from me. "I AM _NOT_ A CHILD!" I roared, feeling every ounce of my body free of the heat. I ran then, down the stairs and out of the house. I was _not_ a child! I was fifteen years old and I was angry, I had every right to leave the room. I had seen adults do the very same. I was not a child.

"_Oh…but you are Isabella, and I think you realise that now." His voice was silken now; no longer filled with anger he stepped forward and put a hand on my shoulder. "You've done nothing but sob and argue since your change, isn't it time you thought of the other more exciting parts of vampirism?" Henry put his hand under my chin, tilting it upwards. _

I stopped then, dead on the boundary line Esme had shown me. I looked upwards, looked through the canopy at the endless sky of clouds and darkness. It was so high above me, so far beyond me. What was I to do but bow to it? I had allies, but I had not any true friends who would weather the storm with me. No-one knew what I felt.

**. . .**

"_Why won't you tell me what has happened, Isabella?" Iago inquired desperately. He placed a hand on my shoulder as I paced. "Or will I have to ask one of the Guard myself?" His thick Greek accent was difficult to understand when he became angry or upset. I just barely stopped him from walking away._

"_Don't."_

"_I can't bear to watch your brow crease with sadness, anymore. Please will you tell me? Before I lose all the sanity I ever had!" _

"_It is too long a story to recount," I replied, beginning to pace again. Iago's face became a mask of rage. I couldn't recognise him._

"_Tell me, before I go elsewhere. Then you'll have no friends at all! It is my right to know." _

"_Why is it your right to know what has happened in my life before you? Why is it your right as my FRIEND to know that?" Iago was startled by my temper clearly, as he stepped back. "Why is it your right to know what has come before you?"_

"_So that I may help you, and explain to you that whatever is roiling inside of you now is false in its meaning. You are not as evil as you may think." _

"_And how would you know that, Iago? HOW?" _

_He paused for a very long time before he answered me this. "Because you would have told me," was his quiet reply. I couldn't help but feel he had meant to say something else entirely._

**. . .**

I still wondered now what he wanted to say, and why it mattered so much what had happened to me. In the end, I had needed to tell him what brought me to the Volturi's attention—it affected every part of my life there. Aro told the people on the mission not to let anyone know, lest there be any kind of bitterness or resentment over the plague. Yet still many jibes were made, and eventually what the rest of them imagined became fact. What they imagined was much worse than what had truly happened, and so I had to reveal my story. Still there was disgust.

**. . .**

"_The girl was not yet six years old, Isabella. It takes a kind of monster to do such a thing to a girl so small and vulnerable," Lucian sneered at me. He knew full well what had truly happened, yet took pleasure out of twisting the facts of my unfortunate beginnings. _

"_You know very well that it was Henry's doing; he changed Emily and not me." Lucian shook his head with a dark smile upon his face, and put a thoughtful hand to his chin. _

"_But did you not tell him what was to be done?"_

"_I did what I had to do, Lucian," was my quiet reply. At this Lucian only quirked his brow, then looked up. Iago was at my side and placed a heavy hand on my shoulder. _

"_Walk away, Lucian, before I do something unadvisable." Iago pushed me behind him protectively, a dark angel as he turned to face my tormenters. I wondered briefly if he ever grew tired of coming to my rescue._

_Lucian sneered a smile, taking a reluctant step back. "Iago." He nodded once in some kind of acknowledgement, and straightened up. He did not dare incur the ire of Iago, as he knew he was Caius' favourite—no-one dared aggravate the pernicious Elder. _

"_Iago, let us leave them," I murmured. He only now registered the existence of Corin, and then bared his teeth at him. A snarl released from Iago's chest, as savage as a wolf. I was convinced that in a few breaths he would be upon them, and would tear them limb from limb. The pair of them stepped backwards and then walked hastily off down the corridor._

"_All the better for them to leave us, Isabella," Iago smiled. He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and drew me to his chest; I enveloped myself in his arms quickly. He was the only one I could rely on here, the only one who cared what happened to me. It had been like that from the start._

**. . .**

Venomous tears pooled in my eyes as I thought of him. He had been my protector, my carer, and my best friend. The poison wore tracks into my cheeks, burning my skin like I knew I deserved. We had said detestable things to each other last time we met, and it was up to me to put it right. I didn't think I could manage any longer without mending that bridge; the years following his departure had been hell.

**. . .**

"_Good evening, my dear," Aro murmured as I entered the room. I mustered up a small smile in return of his kind greeting, though I felt anything but kindness. As had become the normality, Aro reached out his hand, and I placed my own in his. He caressed my hand carefully, as though he held the most precious thing in the world. His features transformed from that of a bright smile to one of extreme sadness. "You still miss our friend Iago?" Aro gazed up into my eyes, imploringly._

_My silent nod was all the answer he needed. _

"_How terrible." He withdrew his hand and rested back against his throne. "Is there anything in the world I can get you to ease your pain?" Freedom? Of course not; I could have everything else… but that. Aro would never free me._

_Still, I tried. "Freedom might be some remedy to my sadness," I mumbled. A disturbance in the air alerted to me to the vehement shaking of his head. From the moment the first syllable tripped out of my mouth he had already said 'no'. I wanted to get angry, but I knew it would make no difference to him. A night in the cells. Easy. I sighed in defeat._

"_You know that is not possible; you are too much of an asset to the Volturi, Isabella." Was this meant to comfort me? Was this meant to make me feel important? I felt anything but. _

_A long moment passed before he spoke again. _

"_I asked you to come here for a reason, of course. I think the world is all too quiet at the moment, so I'd like you to have a look out for anything unlawful," Aro supplicated as he took the bottom of my chin and turned my head to look upwards. I was now directly under the force of his powerful gaze, and it was not a truly pleasant feeling. I felt as though someone was peeling away everything I covered myself with, like I was being stripped bare. All pretences of some small amount of happiness in my life were destroyed in that moment, though I knew Aro could never fall for such an illusion. I was thankful that he did not hold me there for long, as he let me go and pushed me a step back. "Take a look."_

_Taking a calming breath in, replacing my mask, I cast my eye around the world once again. The human world was wrought with illness, as far as I could see. A horrific disease that killed within hours had worked its way half way around the world and killed millions. More were coming into the hospitals. Some from illness, some from gunfire. The Great War which had been raging for many years now had killed millions of humans and led nearly all men in Europe into the fighting. It had made hunting difficult and so our resources were very limited. If a few humans went missing in this time, _everyone_ would notice. Food had to be chosen carefully._

_Fortunately, it did not seem as though any vampires were acting inappropriately at this time I was looking. Aro would be displeased and pleased at the same time. Glad that no-one is misbehaving and following Volturi orders; displeased because there is no excuse to leave the headquarters. Aro must be becoming very bored by now._

"_Nothing seems amiss, Master," I said, my sight returning gradually to my own eyes. The throne room seemed colder than before._

_Aro sighed, resting his head on his hand, rested on the arm of his throne. "I suppose I should be glad," he muttered. With a dismissive sweep of his hand he shooed me out of the room. In a matter of moments I was returned to my own room where I could sit and think. When would I ever escape this place? _

A boy rested in a hospital bed, his sheets fouled by sweat and tears. His skin appeared grey and was covered in a sheen of sweat; he looked to be near death.

_I opened my eyes again, finding myself lying flat on my back on the small bed. It was not made for comfort, though naturally, vampires had little care for comfort. Iago had been the only one who indulged in upholstery for his chairs and the Elders had very swiftly had his room cleared out when we returned from America. _

_Covering my eyes, I could sense the crushing feeling returning to my body as thoughts of Iago filled my mind. A fist reached into my chest and squeezed. While I was thinking of him, I reminded myself of Henry and Ransley. The fist squeezed tighter. Henry's eyes as I left him. Tighter. The resigned look in Ransley's eyes as he died. Tighter. I wondered if I would ever breathe a full breath again. When would this end?_

Carlisle enters the room and rushes to the boy's bedside, his hair is windblown and his coat still on. Carlisle quickly takes off his coat and places it over the boy's face. No-one thinks anything of it as Carlisle pulls the boy's bed away and wheels it down the corridor. Sheets are spare with the huge number of patients; it appears quite normal for him to have used his coat. Some small measure of dignity must be always afforded for the dead. Except, the boy is still breathing.

_My smile is reluctant as I guess what Carlisle plans. He most probably intends to save the boy from the disease by changing him. What other reason could he have for taking him away in that manner? Soon the boy will undoubtedly be signed onto the death register, or registered missing. Either way, the boy will survive—just not human. _

**. . .**

My memory of the red-haired boy in 1918 returns suddenly, having been plucked from the clutches of memory I still keep of the past century. The time I spent with the Volturi in the absence of Iago was almost unendurable. I did not relish in it at all and wished upon wish that things were different. On some occasions, I wished I had never met Iago. But in the present day, remembering what was good and bad about him I cannot bring myself to regret knowing Iago. I cannot regret anything of our time together, except that which pulled us apart.

**. . .**

_Heidi led me to my chambers in the Volturi quarters, her firm hand wrapped around my wrist. She did not smile. She did not grimace. She remained stoic and resolved as she pulled me along with her down the seemingly endless corridors. Her blonde hair was loosely plaited and reached half way down her back. Eventually we reached a flimsy wooden door and she threw it open. There was no lock. No privacy. Just a simple room._

"_This is where you are staying for however long you live here. There is a bed with straw bedding, two wooden chairs and a wash basin. Aro will call for you in a few moments." With that, Heidi turned on her heel and left me standing in the stone corridor. An overwhelming feeling of loneliness came over me as I took in my surroundings. The corridor seemed to stretch on for miles, lit up with fiery sconces every few yards. There was little decoration to compliment the cold and damp. _

_Eventually I took a step into the room and went to sit on the edge of my new bed. It was rough to touch, but I did not care; my clothing was coarse enough and still it did not truly bother me. My new skin seemed impervious to anything outside of it. I leaned back against the stone wall behind me and stared up at the ceiling. More of the same. _

_This was nothing more than I deserved though, this was my punishment for my treatment of Henry and Ransley… and Emily._

"_Welcome," a thick Grecian accented voice called from the corridor. The voice was careful but warm. Then he came to stand on the threshold. His smile was slight and his eyes a bright crimson. The golden tan of his skin was dulled by the vampiric pallor seen in everyone I had known of the kind. He wore unremarkable clothes over his tall, willowy frame. I took all of this in so quickly he had not had time to blink before I made my response._

"_Thank you." I could not muster even a wave from myself; instead I turned my gaze back to the ceiling._

"_You won't find anything of consequence up there," he commented with a rumbling laugh. Without any invitation on my part, he walked in to take a seat in one of the chairs provided. "My name is Iago. What is yours?"_

_Slowly I replied, "Isabella." I turned my gaze to him and watched a smile appear upon his face._

"Bella_…" he whispered under his breath. Sadness roiled in my stomach._

"_Please do not call me that."_

"_As you wish, Isabella," Iago replied promptly. He picked at a splinter in the wood. He took a deep breath in. "You smell like England." _

"_What's that?"_

"_Excrement, wild flowers and leather." I looked at him closely then, wondering what he meant by insulting me so. Apparently, he was joking as a wide smile broke out across his face._

"_Thank you very much," I murmured sarcastically, leaning down to sniff at my clothes. Sure enough he was right. I frowned in disgust and stood from the bed. It was only then that I realised I had no clothes at all to change into._

"_No clothes," Iago stated, though it sounded almost like a question. I turned to him and nodded. His eyes were kind, despite the red of his eyes. I felt comforted in his presence. "I will go and find you some, shall I?"_

"_Yes please, if you would." Iago smiled again slightly, before he left the room. With a sigh I settled down on my new bed once more and straightened the bedding to make something remotely comfortable. Hard stone was not the kindest to anyone's skin._

_Silently I wondered at Iago's thoughtfulness, and friendliness. I could not have hoped for a kinder greeting from anyone, and least of all did I deserve it._

_Yet Iago was here._

**. . .**

A droplet of rain touched my cheek and streamed across my skin. My eyes were still cast to the sky, and I could see the darkness of the clouds and what lay ahead. But whatever happened, I was not leaving the Cullens to avoid Iago. He had been too great of a friend for me to leave alone. What was a hundred years alone to five hundred years of relative happiness? I had Iago to thank for that. He had his faults, but so did I. He was after all, only human. I laughed to myself at irony.

I was going to make peace with him; of this I was certain if he was willing. I did not want to leave this bridge burnt forever.

"Isabella," a voice called. My breath caught in my throat as I turned around. There stood Carlisle, dressed in a pale jumper and dark slacks. Perhaps he had just returned from work; I had no idea of the time.

"What time is it, Carlisle?" I inquired.

"About four o'clock in the morning," he replied swiftly. A ghostly caste came over his face in the moonlight, emphasising his vampirism. I supposed this was why we were typically called the Children of the Night. I had no idea how long I had been standing here in this forest, and only then realised that my clothes clung to my body like rubber. I was soaking wet.

"How long have I been here?" I asked shyly.

"Since about six o'clock last night, according to Edward. He was very frightened for you, but Alice kept him from running after you. She said that you needed this time to think."

"Alice was right," I whispered. At this Carlisle nodded silently.

"She's rarely wrong." A smile quirked up one side of his face.

"I plan to stay for when Iago visits, Carlisle," I told him quietly.

"Good." He offered me his arm then, and I looped my hand through it. We walked slowly back to the house together in companionable silence.

I felt lighter then than I had in centuries.

**A/N: Again with the long wait, I'm sorry about that. All the same, I hope you enjoyed the chapter. :)**


	13. The Best Laid Plans

**The Best Laid Plans**

Walking through the corridors of Forks High School, surrounded by so many red-blooded humans and not feeling _very_ tempted made me feel a lot better about myself. I had managed to work myself up a couple of sets as I picked up the material much faster than the rest of them. I found myself in top set English—no doubt aided by the extensive reading I had done over the years. I also worked my way into second set Chemistry which I was extremely proud of. Alchemy was a completely new subject to me, though I somewhat recognised it from various experiments I had seen the Elders take part in. Overall, I was making 'significant' progress in the words of the Principal.

Some humans had even attempted to make friends with me, despite the instinctual unease they must have felt. Especially in English some classmates seemed all too eager to get to know me. Mike Newton in particular enjoyed my company most; he made a point of sitting next to me whenever he could. Mike Newton also made sure I was never on my own when the class turned to group work; I thought it kind of him. I did wonder if this was because it quickly became obvious that I knew the texts best, and then brushed off the thought. How could someone be so nice—a human no less—if they did not truly like me? I would be able to tell if this was the case. It was obvious when humans were lying or being deceitful, this I had learned over the many years I had fed on them. Something would twitch _somewhere_. Commonly their heart rate would increase, though this I found was not always the case. Practiced liars had learned to control that.

No, I was sure Mike Newton was not insincere in his affection for me. The Cullens however were sceptical of Mike's intentions towards me, Edward especially. Edward claimed that Mike saw me as a potential girlfriend, but I had a lot of difficulty even entertaining the idea. The thought that anyone other than Ransley could feel attracted to me was bizarre, I found. Ransley had been my first and only kiss; I could not see myself truly pursuing a relationship with anyone else. Jasper's confessed earlier attraction to me had startled me so much I did not begin to think of anything of the kind. Jasper already had Alice anyway. No, it simply could be that Mike thought of me in that way.

Yet Edward insisted, and not without what I thought was a hint of resentment and jealousy in his eyes. Again, I believed myself to be quite mistaken.

So with these thoughts crowding my mind, I went to join the lunch line. The scent of tomato pasta sauce filled the air, as well as burning cheese and fresh vegetables. These were the relatively unpleasant smells I had slowly become accustomed to over the past two months; now it was the end of November and only a few days separated me from my reunion with Iago. Only a few thousand miles put him in Alaska while I waited patiently for December eleventh to arrive in Washington. I could almost smell _him_.

Eventually I came to the front of line and gave myself a small portion of pasta and a bowl of carrot sticks. For now, I was ignored, but I wondered when someone would finally notice that I never ate what I bought. When would someone notice _none_ of the Cullens ate what they bought? Humans were exceptionally unobservant, it seemed.

I shuffled over to our usual table, where sat a silent Edward and Rosalie. Both wore indifferent expressions as they pushed their food around on their plates. I had to speculate as to whether they had argued with each other, though I sensed no tension between them. I set my tray of food down onto the table top softly, so as not to disturb their quiet. Both of them looked up with a slight smile on their faces as I sat down opposite them, though neither of them looked really pleased to see me. Again, there was that indifference.

"Lessons okay?" Edward inquired, not requiring an answer. I vocalised my response for Rosalie's benefit.

"Yes, everything went well thank you." The two of them smiled again, and then returned to pushing their food around. Alice appeared before long, setting her tray down on the table top quickly as she rearranged her bag and coat.

"Not long till the visit now, everything looks to go off without a hitch at the moment…" Alice started quickly before she took in the expressions on Edward and Rosalie's faces. "I've had enough of your secretiveness today, so whatever you're planning, whatever you're doing—just decide on it so I can _at least_ tell you how good or bad it is." Alice began tearing a bread roll to pieces and cast her eyes to the tabletop so she could inconspicuously look for the future. Edward and Rosalie shared a look and nodded; the change in Alice's body language was immediate. She breathed out and in again and then looked up with an inquisitive expression upon her face. "Really…?"

Finally growing tired of their wordless communications, I decided I would wade in. "Please tell me what is happening, before I lose all the sanity I ever had. I don't like being confused, and that is exactly how I feel right now. Tell me." I quirked my brow as I watched them consider what to say.

"Hello," Jasper sighed as he sat down on my left side, opposite Alice. He set down his tray easily and carefully pulled the cap off his lemonade bottle. Absorbing the feelings of the whole table he rested his head on his hand as he leaned into Alice. "What now?"

"I wish I could tell you, Jasper. It seems to be one big secret," I replied regretfully.

"I dislike secrets most when I'm not in on them," Jasper shot back quickly. "Care to share?" He cast his gaze over the table, looking into each of their eyes imploringly—they remained stoic though. "Sorrow, mischief, jealousy, anger, impatience and displeasure; that's quite a collection of emotions," he murmured, thinking out loud.

"Who's who?" I inquired. This would be like pulling teeth if this was how they were going to play it, we would have to almost torture them out of it.

"Edward is jealous and angry; Rosalie feels displeasure and mischievous; Alice also feel mischievous, but sorrowful too; meanwhile, you Isabella are _impatient_ and angry."

"I see…"

"How best should we work this?" Jasper wondered.

"With equal mischief, I would say," I returned, staring into Edward's eyes. He was determined to keep this to himself, it seemed.

"What if I was to say… inject emotions?" Jasper teased.

"That sounds like a good idea." I smiled.

"What'll it be?" Jasper asked, turning to me.

"Honesty, guilt, perhaps some loyalty too."

"Sounds like a good mix to me."

Edward and Rosalie seemed unaffected by our resolution and carried on pushing food around their plates. I wondered how long it would be before they succumbed to Jasper's talent. Alice on the other hand seemed to be having trouble not saying anything and stared pleadingly at Jasper. He stared back at her, waiting for her to say something, yet she remained silent.

I soon felt quite guilty and very honest as I felt the emotions Jasper was projecting. It was only a matter of time…

"Mike Newton is planning to ask you to the Snow Ball…" Alice began before Edward placed a hand over Alice's mouth. She continued to speak beneath his mouth, but it was almost inaudible and I could not understand any of what I heard. And then it set in. Mike Newton planned to ask me to a Ball? Impossible.

"I'm afraid I don't believe you, Alice," was all I had to say on the matter. But of course, it was because she felt guilty for keeping it from me, and honest to the table via Jasper's efforts that she had said anything at all. Yet it was a hard idea for me to grasp.

"Mike Newton is looking over at you right now," Edward mumbled under his breath. Slowly, I turned myself around to spy out Mike, who was very swiftly working his way back into a conversation. I shuddered.

"It's _true_." I picked up my fork and pushed the pasta around my plate, keeping my eyes to the table as I did so. "How embarrassing…" I muttered. Once again my thoughts turned to Ransley; what would _he_ think of this? I did not feel attracted to Mike Newton, and his attention towards me was unwanted and questionable in its reasoning. I had no intention of promising myself to him, and telling him so would be a horrible conversation in itself. However, I couldn't help but feel flattered, just as I had when Jasper told me about his own attraction. "Oh dear, what a mess…"

Angrily I shoved my fork down onto the plate again, and leaned back in the chair. Mike Newton. I would need to make sure that I did not make him feel as though I reciprocated his feelings very soon. I would have to actively push him away and this loss of a friend made me feel sad. I had enjoyed his company, though apparently far too much.

"Rosalie and I were planning to—"

"Rosie," Emmett sighed as he planted a sweet kiss on the side of her head and came to sit opposite her. Rosalie smiled happily at his return and took his hand in hers. Emmett had only bought a salad and lemonade which he set down on the table so quickly, pieces of lettuce fell out and his drink spilled. Edward shot him a reproachful look, to which Emmett responded with an apologetic expression. Emmett could tell a serious discussion was about to occur as he settled into silence.

"Rosalie and I were planning to let Newton down easy for you," Edward continued. "But I have since decided this would draw too much attention, and without your blessing of course, it would simply be rude." I looked up then, and his eyes appeared sincere. I smiled gratefully.

"I'll do it myself, thank you Edward—Rosalie—for your concern."

"I always thought Newton was gay," Emmett commented to no-one in particular. A smile broke out across Rosalie's face as she picked up a carrot stick from my tray and flung it into his forehead.

"Ow," Emmett mockingly whined, reaching up to his forehead and rubbing it. The Cullens erupted into laughter at this point, the release of tension altogether welcome. Except, I could not see the humour; Emmett had only paid Mike a compliment as far as I could tell. Still the table laughed for a few more moments before Edward noticed I could not see the funniness.

"Gay means homosexual these days, Isabella," Edward smiled. Still, I could not see what was funny. What was homosexual?

"Homosexual, meaning?" I wondered aloud. The table fell into silent astonishment then. Apparently, this was yet another major change in culture I had missed in my time removed from society.

It was Jasper who spoke this time, speaking lowly enough for only the table to hear. "A homosexual is a person who is sexually attracted to someone of the same sex as them." I furrowed my brow in confusion then. What point was there in being sexually attracted to someone you could not have sex with? This was something to be explained later though.

Instead, I replied with, "Oh, I see." Still, the concept baffled me.

**. . .**

"Hey Isabella," Mike called from his customary desk at the back of the room beside mine. I didn't have the heart to reject him outright, so it was with reluctance that I called a greeting back to him, and then waved as I had become accustomed to doing. Only this time, I sat in a different desk much nearer the front. I caught his confused expression as I set my bag down and put my coat on the back of my chair. I really hoped the person sitting here wouldn't mind moving to the back, though I knew they had every right to.

I heard Mike's chair scrape across the linoleum floor and his footsteps drawing closer to me. I did my best to prepare my expression and voice before he reached me, but I knew there was every chance my attempt to push him away would break down. I didn't enjoy hurting people who truthfully had done nothing wrong.

"How come you're sitting up front?" Mike asked casually, though I could see his Adam's apple bobbing nervously. This was not going to be fun.

"I was having trouble seeing the board, so I thought maybe I could help myself to a closer seat…" I explained, working to keep my voice even and not give away the lie. "I hope you don't mind me moving." I tried to keep eye contact with him, imploring him not to question further and return to his own seat. His blue eyes strayed often from my face, apparently uncomfortable with my steady gaze.

"Of course, sure thing; maybe you should take a trip to the optometrist's? Glasses help." Offering him a gentle smile I nodded and promised to do just what he suggested. Whatever brought him comfort…

Just then Mr. Mason came into the room, his booming voice calling the class to attention and announcing that we were reading chapter two of the novel, _Of Mice and Men_. I almost couldn't stifle my laughter at the irony.

**. . .**

"The best laid schemes of mice and men often go awry," Edward murmured as I sat down across from him in the cafeteria. He wore a crooked smile which would have irritated me if I had not found the irony so funny myself. I chose a different tact.

"I didn't know you were familiar with the works of Robert Burns?" Edward smiled fully then, spinning a bottle cap in the centre of the table.

"When you sleep little, you read more," he replied by way of explanation.

"Truer words were never spoken."

**. . .**

The melody that had become so familiar over the weeks I had spent in the Cullens' home resonated through the floors and walls. Edward played it every Saturday and no-one protested his music, in fact it seemed as though everyone felt all the more peaceful. I had gathered from Alice that his playing had stopped altogether for decades, so they were more than happy that he had started again.

"_Why is his playing so important, Alice?" I inquired while we made our way to the car. She smiled slightly and gave me a furtive look._

"_It's a sign of his happiness. Carlisle told us that in the years leading up to him returning to instinct, he stopped playing. So in the 70s when he gave up playing, we thought it was only a matter of time before he left us. He used to sit at his piano chair and stare at the keys, but no music would come. But now, he is happy again! Things are better." _

I made my way carefully down the stairs, following the sound of the lovely melody. Edward placed accents in different places as I drew closer, the sound of the piano ringing through the room still louder. He looked up then, watching my steps as I came to stand just beside him; he gestured for me to sit beside him.

"Why do you play this tune so often, Edward?" I wondered. His hands faltered on the keys then, though it would never have been noticeable if I had not been watching him so closely. He considered his answer for a few moments.

"Do you dislike it?"

"No, it's very beautiful; I just wanted to know why you played this particular tune." Edward looked at me out of the corner of his eyes, his darkening golden irises full of a meaning I could not grasp.

"It reminds me of someone."

"This person must be very kind, and must bring you great happiness by the sound of it," I murmured, setting my hands on top of the piano. The vibrations of the music were in the wood, communicating a message to the world. The music changed then to take a darker tone, moving into minor key. "But they aren't who they seem, and you worry about that. You want them to let you help them, but they won't."

"You know your music," Edward teasingly responded, though I felt some nerves were veiled behind the humour. He abruptly stopped playing.

"Have I offended you, Edward? I'm sorry if I went too far… music seems to take a hold of me—"

"No, you're all right." He paused for a moment then. "Jasper? Alice? Did you want to go hunting or not?" A rush of footsteps on the stairs was the only answer they gave, most likely communicating to Edward in their minds.

"Let's go!"

**. . .**

The twilight was striking tonight, casting hues of blue, purple and gold across the sky. The forest was silent around me as I rushed to our agreed meeting place beside a large Oak. My insides were full of animal blood, taming the creature for another week; it rarely made an appearance now. I was grateful to the Cullens for having kept me to my diet, though I knew I had not been _very_ close to losing control; it was good to have such a strong and supportive family.

I startled, coming to an immediate stop in my run. _Family._ I marvelled at the word I had flung so casually into my thoughts. They had always only been the Cullens, never my family. I had not had a family for so long; it was comforting to think of anyone with such a word. But I would not label them as I would my biological family—my mother and my father could be no other but those whose bones lay in a churchyard in England. London would remain my home too. If I were to die, I hoped that I would blow in the winds of England, no matter how bad my time there had been—it was my home. I was just travelling.

"We wondered where you got to, Isabella! It's time to go back now," Alice said. "Did you drink enough?" Some time in my reverie she had appeared, smiling angelically.

"Yes, I drank enough Alice." With that, she took my hand and led us back to the men. Edward gave me a wary look, while Jasper offered me a smile. The latter took Alice's other hand and pulled her along with him as they sprinted back to the Jeep. Edward hung back with me.

"I'm pleased that we have become like your family, Isabella," Edward whispered. "We feel the same way." Once again, Edward had been eavesdropping on my thoughts… but I could not find it in myself to care. He could listen all he liked.

"Thank you, Edward. I feel very welcome here—it's good for me."

"I'm glad of it."

**A/N: Some B/E going on at last. Hoorah! haha**


	14. Catalyst

**Catalyst**

"Isabella, it's not long until they arrive now," Edward called through the door. I stood up then, placing Esme's copy of _Pride and Prejudice_ down on the bed. I had literally minutes until I found Iago again, until we spoke once more; it was a daunting thought. Still his words echoed through my head, telling me I was behaving like a petulant child—then leaving me unable to see him for dust. I had not wanted to see what he was doing, had not searched for him with my sight. I knew I might only be sickened by what I saw, sickened with jealousy and embittered further. This would not help me.

But I was going to put that all behind me now, it was water under the bridge. The five hundred years that Iago cared for me could not be forgotten. What was a hundred years alone to that? I had no idea what I might have become without his support. Perhaps Emily's vision would have come true? I shuddered at the thought.

"How long exactly is it, Edward?" I inquired, moving towards the door. I gingerly placed my hand on the door knob and turned it, finding Edward leaning against the wall across from me. He wore a casual button-down shirt and a pair of jeans; his usual choice of clothes. His hair was as tousled as usual too.

"At Alice's last check, about two minutes." I took in a shaky breath.

"They don't bite," Edward tried to reassure me, with more than a touch of irony. I couldn't help but smile at his somewhat twisted humour.

"I know this, of course." Edward stood away from the wall then and offered me his arm. I hesitated, not wanting to give anyone the wrong idea about my intentions. Edward heard this in my thoughts and withdrew his arm, a reluctant smile taking the place of his saddened expression before. It had only been there for a split second. _I'm sorry, Edward._ He nodded once in acknowledgement.

We started our walk down the stairs, our steps in time with each other on the hardwood floor. Emmett joined us on the second flight.

"How are you feeling, Isabella?" he asked not without a good amount of concern. I wondered at his thoughtfulness, as I had not thought Emmett was paying a great amount of attention to me; Rosalie certainly tried to stay well out of my way.

"I'm… apprehensive Emmett, but I'm okay I think," I told him.

"That's understandable," Emmett replied. I had needed to tell the Cullens exactly what went on between me and Iago to avoid any awkward questions during their visit. I didn't have any idea what the Denali coven had been told though… Iago had never been forthcoming with any of his history so I had not tried to force it from him. He may not have had the good manners _not_ to ask, but _I_ did.

Just as we set our feet on the last stair, wheels could be heard on the driveway.

They had arrived.

Two cars pulled up, I could hear. I went to the front window to spy them out. One blue car released three women each of variable origin, and one man I recognised easily: Eleazar. The black car though had only just stopped its engine when I walked to the window. After a few seconds, Iago and another woman left the car. Iago stopped abruptly in his tracks, breathing in. A look of shock came upon his face.

"Isabella?" he wondered. "It can't be?" He turned to the woman he had exited the car with, and then looked into the window where I watched silently. His eyes caught mine only for a moment before I jumped back from the clear glass. I was pleased to note that he too had adapted to drinking from animals, and in everything else but his eyes, he looked just the same.

"Is she here?" a woman asked.

"Yes, I believe I just saw her in the window!"

At that moment, Carlisle came down from his study and opened the front door to welcome his guests. "Welcome, Tanya, Irina! Oh hello Eleazar, Carmen too. Hello Kate and welcome Iago." Their footsteps on the muddy grass were loud; at least it seemed so to me. Each of them embraced Carlisle in a hug, as if they had known each other for millennia. I smiled warmly to each of the Alaskan vampires, Eleazar especially, though they did not seem to return any good will I felt toward them. In fact, they looked at me coldly. I could only guess what Iago had told them. And then, Iago took Carlisle in a hug and turned to face me.

It was as if no-one else was there but him and me, and he had just come into my room like a warm breeze. It was as if nothing had happened when he was stood in front of me, and I could see now as I looked closer that he had changed. He was happier, his eyes impossibly brighter. I wanted nothing more than to feel his arms wrap around me again. He opened his arms to me then, and I rushed into him, pressing my face into his chest.

"I'm sorry, Iago," I murmured quietly into him. He pressed me tighter to him, his arms wrapping all around me. I felt safe.

"I'm sorry, too," he whispered. "It's been too long."

"Much too long," I sighed as I pulled back. "But you're here with me, and you converted." He pulled my chin up so he could look at my face properly, much in the same way as he had often done before. The pressure of his hand on my skin made me feel protected, and looked after. Iago was here for me.

"I see you changed your feeding habits as well," he smiled. "It looks good on you." He pulled away and took my right hand. "Isabella, I would like you to meet my wife Kate and her sisters Tanya and Irina, as well as Carmen, but of course you know Eleazar. They have become like our extended family." He gestured to them each in turn. I startled at the word 'wife', my eyes widening for a moment as I took in the beautiful blonde. The coven mustered up more of a smile for me this time, and greeted me much more civilly. "Of course, this is Isabella Swan who I've known for a good six hundred years." He could not hide from me that I had come up in conversation; they had all made it quite clear what they thought of me.

"Now that we're all acquainted with each other again, let's take a seat shall we?" Esme said. At some point an extra sofa had been brought out of the basement to accommodate our new guests, it was not needed and yet courteous. Esme cared for everyone.

"Yes," Tanya said.

"Let's," Irina chimed in. I noticed a slight Eastern European twang to their speech, though I could not place it ever. I had not journeyed to many of the Balkan countries, and that had been rare. Often it was a hunting expedition with Caius, keen to destroy all werewolves.

I sat beside Iago on the far sofa, facing the front window and Kate sat on his other side. Edward sat on the arm of the sofa beside me while Carlisle and Esme sat across from us beside Tanya; Carmen and Eleazar chose the armchair to my left. Irina sat to my right with Emmett and Rose, Alice and Jasper choosing to stand.

"It's been a while since we last spoke, Tanya, tell us what news you have," Carlisle started, grasping Esme's hand in his as he spoke to Tanya. She appeared to be reserved, still wearing her coat around her shoulders and her hands placed firmly in her lap. It was like she was waiting to leave.

"Well, I recently decided that next year I will be enrolling at the local college to study European History." She smiled slightly, but her tone suggested more excitement than her face.

"That's good, we know you know plenty about that," Carlisle returned jovially. But something was off. The atmosphere was tense, and I noticed then that everyone was sitting carefully. I looked up at Jasper to see if it was his work, though I could see no occasion for it. His brow was furrowed, but so was everyone else's. I looked up at Edward then to question; he responded with an almost unnoticeable nod. So I was right, Jasper was responsible for the tense atmosphere.

"Yes, a little too much for my liking," Tanya said half jokingly. Her eyes flicked over to mine accusatorially, and again I wondered what I had ever done wrong.

"We're going to visit Spain again in April as well," Eleazar volunteered.

"Which part?" Rosalie inquired quickly, her eyes alight with curiosity. I had heard her and Emmett discussing plans for a trip to Europe earlier in the week—no doubt Rosalie was doing research.

"Salamanca, we thought. It's where we are from," Carmen said. "It will be good to see my old home again." She smiled wistfully, casting her eyes out into the forests.

"We miss the weather sometimes," Eleazar explained. "And of course, we want to know how our families are."

"Of course," Esme murmured.

"Iago and I were planning a trip to England, shortly," Kate put in, her eyes glancing towards me. _Is this some effort to make me jealous?_ I wondered. "We have not visited London in a long time, so we thought that now was a good time to go. Our family is spreading out, so why not us?" Kate grinned as she took Iago's hand.

"What business do you have in London?" I asked. Neither of them came from the area…

"Just a visit," Iago said swiftly, a reassuring look in his eyes. Kate looked at him confusedly for a moment before moving on to speak again:

"And then we're headed off to Slovakia."

"I'm joining them there," Irina threw in.

"Sounds good," Carlisle said then, polite as ever.

"Why did you never mention that you killed my comrades, Iago?" Jasper questioned suddenly. Ah, so this was the cause for his unease. "Surely you would have recognised me? Seen me?" Iago looked from me, and then to Jasper. He appeared baffled by the quick subject change.

"I did not feel it was necessary to mention, and Isabella probably only knows your face so well because she let you go. It took me a long time to put two and two together, but still I thought I would only cause trouble if I said anything. I'm sorry if my decision upset you." Sincerity was in every syllable Iago spoke, everything he said was undoubtedly true. But Jasper had no place to ask anything of the kind. He had not recognised Iago, or seen him. I could only guess that Jasper wonders why Iago did not react as I did.

"Okay then," Jasper replied after a moment, apparently satisfied with his response. Alice wrapped a hand around Jasper's waist, and I could feel the tense atmosphere abating already. She was good for him. Edward smiled to me, no doubt thinking something very similar.

"I'm curious Edward," Tanya inquired. "Are you mated?" Edward looked shocked at the notion and stood. "Only, you seem to get along so well with Isabella…" Tanya smiled at my perhaps even more stunned face. She honestly thought that he and I were mated? Did we give that outward impression?

"No, Tanya, I am not mated," Edward replied slowly. Tanya looked pleased.

"Tell me Isabella, what are the limitations of you gift? I always wanted to ask, but I never felt close enough to you while we were in the Guard." Eleazar had left me alone while we were together in the Guard, and never took part in Lucian and Corin's games. But he had never been friendly either; he was too much focused on serving the greater good. He seemed kind now.

"I don't think there is anything I cannot see now, as long as it remains in the present. I have trained my sight for so long; it would seem I can see anywhere I want in the world. Once I could not have seen what did not affect me personally, but now…" Eleazar nodded in understanding.

"I'm sorry for how we treated you," he said. "I truly believed I was doing the right thing."

"I know, Eleazar."

"_Hello, Isabella," Aro smiled, his bizarrely white teeth revealing themselves with a grin. His eyes took in the fading meadow where Ransley and I sat, awaiting their arrival. The six vampires who had followed their master blindly took offensive positions in a circle around us. Ransley held my hand tightly in his; squeezing it firmly while he attempted to compose the fear I could feel in the way he held himself. Ransley was trembling, and the red of his eyes were the darkest of nights. The blackbirds had to come to harvest._

_Eleazar gave Aro a look which said that he knew something… a thing that Aro would regard with excitement. My head passed between their two faces like an unsteady horse, unsure of its path. Eleazar beckoned Aro with his eyes and he went to him, holding out his hand. Eleazar touched his fingers to the palm of Aro's hand and the grin which had graced his face just a second before grew wider. It looked as if his face would split in two if he could smile much more. The strange quality of his skin seemed to accommodate the expression well though._

"You did what you thought was right, I know." I offered Eleazar a small smile. I had enough bitterness to last me several lifetimes, I did not need to add anger over Eleazar's hand in my extended life. He did his duty, and that was all.

The dark encroached outside now, the trees swaying in a breeze unseen; they were swept up by a tide of inevitability just as Eleazar was. Some things must just come to pass, no matter what we mean to happen—despite our best efforts. How could I have known any of what would happen to Henry? To Ransley? What could I _really_ have done to stop it? Perhaps it had been their time to die? Emily had seen what I would become and seen the aftermath, as I found out, of the deaths of my companions. Could I put it all down to fate?

"I'm sorry, I have to go right now," I told the room, before promptly turning around and running out into the forest. Venomous tears were pouring down my face before I even leapt over the river, feeling the relief in my bones and muscle. Every pore, every inch of my body felt free again. Could it be true?

Everything I had blamed myself for over these many years, was just my wilful regret? Could my blame be slighted so easily? I almost didn't want to believe it. I found myself at the Treaty line before long, stopping so as to honour my family's wishes. The clouds had cleared over the day, revealing a glorious night. I looked to the sky above for answers, now littered all over with star shine. There were points of light, a somewhat brighter future that I could see now. I could see myself spending the rest of my days in the company of the Cullens. I could even see a close companion in Edward, finding the notion of a relationship no longer so ridiculous. Who better to understand me than one who can see and feel my pain with me?

But with this new thought, this new revelation I wondered at the possibility of a life without pain or so much regret that I could not bear it. With the blessing of Ransley, there was a future for me with Edward; I knew he felt something more for me than I had ever contemplated.

I needed to go home.

"Isabella?" I heard a voice call. I turned, finding Iago stood only a few feet away from me. He held a hand out to me, his face the picture of concern. I went forward to take his hand, the familiar feeling of comfort enveloping me as I did so. "Why did you leave so quickly? Edward said I should not worry, but I had to. Are you okay?"

I smiled as I looked up to him. "I'm letting go," I said in reply. "I was never to blame for their deaths… it all comes down to fate. Emily had already seen what would happen. We were already on that path before Henry even changed her. No matter what I said, no matter what I did, things would always have turned out this way. None of it was my fault."

The conviction in my words made me feel lighter than in centuries, I felt as though I could fly. The hole in my chest I had learned to forget was healing over now. I was finally—_finally_—moving on. Iago's smile however was not half as wide as my own.

"That's good news," he said after a pause.

"Don't you agree, Iago? You said it yourself that I was not to blame!" My voice rose into a shout, panic taking a hold of me. Was I wrong? Was everything I had realised just my own imagination?

"You are not to blame entirely, Isabella," he replied. "Of course you aren't, I could never say that."

"But I am _partly_ to blame?"

He stood for a while as he considered this. "No, you are not at all to blame, forgive me for my stupidity." I threw his hand away from me. How _dare_ he? What right did he have to break the faith I had just discovered? How could he place even a seed of doubt into my head?

"But you are not sure, Iago! You are not SURE!" I cried, wiping away more tears. I could not bear to look at him. "How _dare_ you destroy this for me, Iago? How _DARE_ you!" I walked a few paces away from him, breathing deeply in a vain attempt to calm my nerves. "I fought so long with my guilt and just in this last second I have learnt finally to forgive myself! _Why_ did you come here, Iago? What are you _doing_ here?"

"I meant for none of this, Isabella!" He chased after me, attempting to take my hand, failing that, my arm. I did not want any part of him touching me and hurled him off. Yet Iago was not deterred. "I am sorry, Isabella!"

"You are constantly sorry, Iago," I rumbled, deep in my chest. "When will you learn what I need?"

"If you would give me the chance…" I would not allow him to speak, lest he destroy my belief further.

"You threw away your chance on the battlefield. Run back to your _purpose_, Iago, you seem quite content with Kate!"

"I am content with Kate, but elated with you by my side. These past years have been lonely, despite the company I've kept. I always want you, Isabella. We were the best of friends…"

"I was not good enough for you back then, why now?"

"Because I realised how much I needed you, Isabella; I am _not_ Iago without you!" I turned to face him then, and found tears tracked down his face too. He meant what he said.

I sighed. "I… I… I need you too Iago, but how can I be near you when you have reduced me to this? I don't know what to do!"

"I'm sorry, Isabella. I will never stop being sorry."

"There are some things I've wanted to know for many years, Iago. I think now is the time to ask."

"Ask whatever you want to ask, Isabella. If these questions will keep you near, then ask. I will do whatever I need to so I can keep you nearby."

"What were those looks you used to have?" Iago startled, and stared at me like I had presented him with a puzzle too great for him to solve. "Those looks have confused me for as long as I can remember. In a moment of stress, your eyes would glaze over and I would not be able to contact you. _What were those looks_?"

**A/N: Breathe Me by Sia was truly inspirational as I was writing this, it really reflects the mood of the chapter. Have a listen if you can. **


	15. Confessions

**Confessions **

Iago took a hesitant step back, his eyes narrowed in accusation. I wondered what I had done to deserve such a look on this occasion; I hoped whatever it was that it would not stoke his fiery temper. And then his face calmed. His left hand came up to stroke at the short hairs on his chin, his expression becoming thoughtful.

"I am not sure what you mean, Isabella," he said, slipping into the thick Grecian accent I knew so well. I could hear him in my ears, telling me about the places in Volterra I could visit for good clothing.

"_These belong to Lilith; she is about the same height as you, I think, so they should fit well enough for now. Tomorrow, if the weather proves favourable, I can take you to the market in the Piazza outside. I know the best stalls for clothes, so it shouldn't be a problem." Iago smiled kindly as he spoke, setting out a beautiful red dress that was made from a fabric I could not name. Beside it he placed some simple leather shoes. I had not seen such extravagant clothes on any person but a member of the aristocracy in England. _

"_I see you are not used to such finery, Isabella," Iago chuckled as he worked painstakingly to pull any and all creases from the fabric. "This is a very rare fabric called silk… the feel of it is exquisite." He reached out a hand to mine and brushed my fingertips along the fabric. It was soft. "Lilith saved up for years to afford this dress," Iago explained. "So I do not think we will be finding such fine clothes on the market tomorrow for any price we could afford." My face fell on hearing that I could not own something like this myself. Iago offered me a reassuring smile. "But rest assured, Isabella, you will never have to wear such coarse fabric as you wear now again."_

_This heartened me slightly. "Thank you for being so kind to me, Iago."_

"_It is a pleasure."_

"Do me a kindness, Iago, and tell me what those looks were. _Please_. They have plagued my mind for so many years, I feel as though I deserve an explanation." He studied my face, his eyes darting between each of my eyes, and then to the sky above.

"I truly do not know what you speak of…" But I knew he did.

"Okay, Iago, if that's how it is," I sighed, turning back to the house, heading for the comfort of who I now considered my family. A blackbird called across the forest then, reminding me of all my time with the Volturi. They had taken me away to a cruel place, taken away my will and my coven—my love. But Iago kept me going. I couldn't give up now.

"What were you going to say back then, Iago? We were having an argument and I didn't want to tell you what had happened in England. You said you wanted to comfort me, to convince me that _whatever was roiling inside of me was false in its meaning_." I pronounced his words back to him, though I daren't have looked at him. It was a feat of courage to stay near him after his first denial. What if I could get no answers? "And then when I asked you how you could tell, after a long time you said, 'Because you would have told me.' I have always wondered what you truly wanted to say to this, as well." Taking a breath in I turned, only to find him leaning weakly against the thick trunk of a tree. He seemed to grip it for support, unable to stand on his own two feet.

"Are you well, Iago?" I inquired, instinctively reaching for his hands. "What is your ailment?" I startled at my slip into old language. For a moment, we could have been anywhere and anyone—just two good friends having a serious conversation. For a moment, I could forget the years of history as I took in his pained face.

His gold eyes flashed in the night, a determination coming over him. "I am very well, Isabella," he said gruffly, drawing his hand from mine. I was wounded by his rejection. "And once again you have interpreted something entirely innocent to be veiled in deceit. Am I so poor a man in your eyes? Is it all I do that I lie?" He stood up straight at this as the hurt undoubtedly registered on my face.

"Apparently it is, sir," I replied angrily, clenching my fists so that I would not strike him. "You had a look on your face, Iago…"

"Oh, a look again? I should be grateful for a day when something I say troubles you! If I knew what effect a look could have on you, I may not have bothered speaking at all…"

"Something you said has troubled me a _great_ deal, Iago! On the battlefield, after Aro let the majority of the Guard free, you told me something which has haunted me to this day." Iago cast his eyes to my furious face, an apparently concerned expression taking hold of his own face. "'Isabella you are acting like a petulant child.' You said. You know not how those words have crowded my thoughts since then." He took in my trembling form for a moment.

"I don't know when I will ever find a way past what has happened to me, Iago. You _certainly_ do not help matters!" With that, I tore a thick branch off of the tree beside me and flung it at him. He ducked in time, but the sentiment was clear. I wanted him away from me. "The Volturi did their cruel work on me first, and then you finished the job! You ruined me!" My hand pointed accusatorially to him and he recoiled from it. "Why did you say those words, Iago? Did you not _remember_?"

He looked at me for a long time, taking in my trembling form and trembling hands. I wanted nothing more than to punch his unassuming face. It was an act—I knew it. "I said it because I needed you to let me go. Fast. And before Aro changed his mind. I knew you would never let me leave if I did not break up our friendship completely; calling you a petulant child seemed the easiest way."

"There are kinder ways of telling people to leave you alone…" I mumbled.

"You would not have let me go if I did not, though, Isabella. You must remember how you clung to me? I wondered if I would ever escape your grasp."

"But you did not have to choose those precise words," I replied with a grimace. I could not yet bear to look at him. He hurt me—_purposely_. He had made a calculated choice to torment me. "You might have called me anything else, anything but that." He sighed.

"Truthfully, it was the first thing that came into my head," he admitted hesitantly. "I was just looking for a way out. I had to find my 'purpose' as Aro so often spoke about—and then I found Kate." His feet shifted on the leafy ground, making many small creatures underfoot homeless. "I am sorry for hurting you; I did not want to cut so deeply… I hope you will forgive me." With that, he turned to leave.

"Stop!" I called to him as I saw him breeze past me. I could not let him go, no matter how much he had upset me; I still needed my answers. "You haven't answered any of my questions, yet, Iago. I want _answers_!" And he did stop, but only for a second before he sped on back to the house.

I was not about to let him get away with his evasiveness. So I gave chase, following him through the seemingly endless trees, watching his golden brown hair in the darkness. We had not managed to run even half a mile before I was upon him, wrestling him down as I situated myself on his back. I would _sit_ on him if that was what it took to get my answers.

"Isabella, please get off me before I THROW you off!" he said, his anger blazing.

"Answer my questions, or I am prepared to sit here on your back until the next ice age." I knew he would not dare to remove me from his back himself. It would not be very gentlemanlike. "What were your looks about, Iago? What were you going to say?" Beneath me he shifted, placing his palms flat against the floor, moving as if he really _was_ going to throw me off. But then he stopped, apparently changing tact.

"I will share something with you if you will please stand up," he said resignedly. "I have kept this to myself for such a long time…" he whispered under his breath. He seemed shocked that he was truly going to tell me, to tell anyone. But I remained suspicious.

"Are you going to run off again?" I inquired, casting a suspicious eye to his hands which still rested against the ground—palm up.

"No, Isabella," he replied earnestly, and somewhat impatiently. I could sense his uneasiness beneath me, the muscles of his back tensing and releasing as he lay prone. Now satisfied that he would not run away from me, I stood to my feet. In the next second, he was on his feet too and looked aggrieved.

"What on earth can it be that you must tell me? You look as though you have seen a ghost!" I exclaimed, taking in his seemingly increased pallor. I watched his Adam's apple bob in his throat as he swallowed, his hands clenched into tight fists. "What is it, Iago?"

He took a few steps back to lean against a tree, pressing the back of his head to the harsh bark. "You will hate me," he said simply, and not without a great amount of fear. "I have not told this to anyone, Isabella, in case you should hear about it through them. I trust no-one. No-one but you, at least." He said all this with his eyes looking upwards, apparently too stricken with fear to look at me.

I could not guess at what he was leading up to.

"I have kept this from you for that reason alone. You would hate me…"

"Please just say it, Iago! I cannot bear the suspense you are keeping me in! Whatever it is you must say, say it now." His head turned quickly in shock, his eyes widened.

"We are kin, Isabella. What runs in your veins runs in mine." He said these words with such conviction, I could almost believe him. Why would he be so cruel? What could he gain from playing such a trick on me?

"Why would you say such a thing, Iago? Is this some sort of joke?"

"Far from it! We truly are related, though not by blood—but by venom. The bite that took your life took mine too… except that we are separated by a hundred years. Can you not recognise the trace of _his_ scent on me?" Iago stood tall now, only a few feet away from me. He tried to look confident, pushing his shoulders back and smiling. He looked hopeful, though I could not guess at how my reaction had spurred that on; perhaps it was because I had not yet attacked him. But why would I attack him? He was obviously mad.

"Iago, that is not true. We are nothing alike. You never met Henry…" His desperate red eyes came to mind, and his scent. I used to think of him with guilt, but now I felt comforted, now that I had realised I had no responsibility to claim.

"I did meet Henry, _once_. I thought that one day I might see him again, and then you arrived." I struggled to comprehend what he was saying, not truly believing what I was hearing. Yet he continued speaking, completely sure of himself. This would be a very elaborate joke if he really was lying… "Those looks were in remembrance of him, Isabella; I know you have spent hours thinking about him. I only knew him for a few short minutes before he moved on.

"And what I wanted to say was that I could feel you were a part of him. You could not be evil. No part of him could be _evil_; of this I am convinced entirely." He smiled slightly, looking down to the ground. He seemed to be searching for something. His eyes alighted on something before he reached down and raised a purple hair band into sight. "You dropped this," he said simply, offering the frayed thing to me. I quickly took it from him, sliding it back into my pocket.

Ember existed only in my memory. If I did not have this, she would be forgotten—on the fringes of my memory. But as long as I had this, she would be close by and never far from my mind. This small, perhaps insignificant hair band was her memorial. She could not and should not be forgotten, as she seemed to think she would be. Time had pressed her footsteps into the earth, worked her life into grit until she was nothing but ash. I would do this for her. I would keep her.

"Thank you, Iago," I said, ashamed of my carelessness. Of course, he had no idea of the significance this held for me, and I could not help but be glad of it. I did not want to explain this to anyone else. My encounter with Ember was private, and she was desperate. I would not tarnish her memory. Of course, Iago noticed I was cautiously ignoring his confessions. But I had no idea what to think. What was I supposed to say? How was I meant to react? Could I believe him?

"Isabella? You have yet to make any comment…" he prompted me. "Just take a breath, deny that my scent is like Henry's, _because it is_. And you know it, even though you won't say it." I looked up to him, taking in his anxious eyes. They had darkened almost to black, fear gripping him. I could at least do as he asked.

I took his hand, pressing his palm to my nose and taking a shuddering breath. There was the smell of leather, grassy fields and dandelions beneath Iago's own unique aroma. I had not noticed it before as I did now, and in this moment I felt ridiculous. _How could I not have noticed?_ I who claimed to know Henry so well could not recognise one of his own children. As good as _my brother_! Quickly I released Iago's hand, pushing it away, pushing _him_ away. "You are…"

"Yes, I am!" Iago reached to take my hands, but I would not let him. "I could smell him on you—the essence of him. I was almost certain it was the same vampire I knew before you told your story. That was all the assurance I needed. But I cannot explain why I never told you before; it truly is a mystery to me. From my memory though, I believed that you would not have anything to do with me once you knew that Henry had sired me as well. You spoke of him with such resentment, and yet such guilt. I could not measure what reaction I might have on you.

"And any Isabella at all was good enough for me. So I decided I would treat you as my sister and protect _you_ as I failed to protect my blood family. But I failed in protecting you, too! I hurt you! For that I am eternally sorry." New tears fell from his eyes, burning tracks in his skin. "I am so sorry, Isabella." With that he collapsed on the floor, putting his head in his hands. It was a desolate picture. I had never seen Iago look so weak and helpless.

A figure flashed to my left; white, gold and lightness. Kate with her corn silk hair windswept around her face and worried eyes came to Iago and pressed his face into her stomach. He clung to her, wrapping his arms about her waist and shuddering—retching. Kate's hands wound into Iago's hair, making a soothing motion as she waited for him to calm down. She cast me an icy look, and I recoiled in shock. I had thought her greeting before was cold, but now her gaze was glacial. It said, 'Run away before something I regret happens.'

"_And so, I left him where he was with Ransley and Emily and hoped that the Volturi would have their justice lay only with him. I hoped that they would not try to hunt me or Ransley down. I hoped that Ransley would run too, and he did, he came after me. But in my visions, I saw the fire that burnt Henry away. I did not see them tear him apart, but I watched the fire burn. I have often wondered why that is, but I have not yet thought of a reason." I looked down into my lap, watching the venomous tears fall to the close fabric I wore. Iago was silent and I waited for him to say something as the wet pooled in my skirt… but still he said nothing. _

_Finally I had to look up. Iago was staring into the distance, a harrowed look upon his face. I knew what I had done was disgusting; what did I expect? Of course he would hate me now, could most probably never bear to look at me again. But that kindness I had seen in him when I arrived… I could not let it go._

"_Please believe me when I say this, Iago. I have not felt more remorseful for anything than what happened to Henry. I am completely disgusted with myself. _Please _believe me." I attempted fruitlessly to salvage our friendship—he would not bear to look me in the eye. "Please, Iago…" I reached a hand out to him and tried to take his hand. At my touch his eyes alighted and he withdrew. I wondered if he wished I would crawl into a corner and wait to see if vampires could die of old age. _

"_How could you?" he said. "You left him there!" He stood up then, aggression in every muscle in his body. This was a fury I had never witnessed in him. He pointed an angry finger into my face. "He was foolish, but you were just as bad. You as good as told him to do it, you gave him permission. You allowed him to destroy himself!"_

"_He would have changed Emily whether I gave my blessing or not! Henry was mad with the thought of power—he thought he could overthrow the Volturi with that one small child and her grotesque gift! I did not force his teeth into her throat! HE did that! DO NOT blame _ME _for that!" My cheeks burned as the last word tripped out of my mouth._

_Iago paused then. _

"_And what right do you have to judge me, Iago? You were NOT there; I have described my story to you out of necessity only! And that is what it is, Iago—MY STORY! How dare you make presumptions such as those? You know nothing of what Henry was truly like! Words do not do justice to his character! You apparently know _nothing_ of my guilt! Do you not think these same questions go through my mind every moment of every day? Do you think I do not blame myself? I know I should not have left him, but I was angry and I was _scared_! I hoped that I would never end up in this godforsaken place, I wished I was DEAD. I still wish I was dead. But that is not going to change any time soon, Iago! Is it? So please, spare me your thoughts on my own heinous crimes! I know what I have done and will pay for with every day of my long—_long_—life! Just leave me alone!" _

_He stared back at me in shock, his eyes wide and black. He no doubt wondered what he had just unleashed; never had I felt so furious in my human or my vampire life. And then he left the room._

Only now did his reaction to my tale make sense.

**A/N: Heart and soul, one will burn... I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter as much as I did writing it. Sorry for the wait again, but this chapter was taxing, and I had exams to revise for. **


	16. Beginnings

**IaPOV**

**Beginnings**

"Alexis!" I called, momentarily shocked by the strength of my voice. I wondered where my brother had gone. Had he run away? I could not feel him beneath me…

**. . .**

"_Get away from here, boys!" _

_My mother had shouted, her words so fast I had just barely understood her. But a figure had blocked the door; Alexis and I had nowhere to run. I had pushed my brother behind me—he was five years my junior and I knew I had to protect him. _

"_Iago let me pass!"_

_Alexis had struggled with me, but I would not let him through. I feared what had caused our mother to tell us to leave. Our mother was a strong woman who did not run away, even when father died. She stood by us._

"_Iago, get out of this place, NOW!"_

_I looked to her voice, but saw nothing except darkness. I could hear a scuffle, but heard no other voices. No figure blocked the door now, so I took my brother's hand and ran out of the door with him. A thunderstorm crashed in the sky above us. Zeus was unleashing his almighty anger upon us. I faintly registered Alexis protesting behind me as I pulled him along by his wrist when he refused to go no further. But I was stronger._

"_Iago if you do not let go of me this second I'll feed you to the dogs!"_

_A price I will have to pay, I mumbled with a slight smile. I looked up, seeing the lightning flash in the clouds, shortly followed by a heavy rumble of thunder. All I could think of was following mother's orders though, and trying to find a safe shelter before the rains came. _

_After running all the way down Main Street and through several alleys, I found myself in the undergrowth of the nearby forest. The trees would protect us from the rain and the lightning… and whatever mother feared too. Alexis begged for me to stop, but I could not. We had to go deep into the forest. We had to keep safe. _

"_IAGO!"_

**. . .**

Now I remembered.

The sweetest scent I had ever had the pleasure of smelling. The strongest hands I had ever felt wrapping around my neck. The sharpest teeth that seemed to dig in like several tiny points of a dagger. The brightest red eyes I had ever known.

Taking a breath, I looked up to the sky to see it cleared. A careful dawn light seeped in through the leafy trees, the gentle warmth touching my skin. I could smell a great number of things, overwhelming my senses. Where was the leather scent coming from? What smell came from which plant?

What was the delicious smell I could taste on my tongue and burned in my throat?

I looked to my left, seeing a dried red spot on the grass. Without intending to, I leaned forward and sucked the substance from the green grass. It certainly did not taste as good as it smelt, undoubtedly spoilt by being out in the open for so long. Leaning back on my haunches, I took in the space around me.

Several reaches above me a canopy of trees almost completely blocked out the lightening pink sky. I wondered at the strange hue, having not seen it look such an unusual colour before. All around me I was surrounded by trees, each of a kind I could never name. The light bark was covered in millions of tiny creatures I had not noticed before, yet they did not move. Were they afraid? I looked around the place, searching for a threat. Satisfied that I could find nothing, I carried on taking in my surroundings.

Finally I stood to my feet in want of a better viewpoint. A high pitched shriek called across the forest, sounding somewhat similar to the call of a bird. I marvelled at the clarity of my hearing and wondered whether I had been half-deaf for the past nineteen years of my life. For that matter, had I been nearly blind for the same amount of time? I could not remember a time when the nature given by Gaia had looked so beautiful. The colour of the greenery around me looked more vibrant and full of life than ever before. Minuscule creatures scurried across the leaves above, even if those settled nearby would not move.

I watched as the breaths I took disturbed the air, moving minute scraps of nameless objects about as if from a strong wind. I had never noticed such things before, and wanted to know why I saw these things now.

"_I am sorry," _a voice wailed in my memory; the voice was male and sounded distressed. "_I did not mean for this to happen."_

"Alexis!" My voice rang across the forest, meeting only silence. "Alexis where are you?"

"_You will wake up soon, though you are in great pain now. You will wake up, and then you will want to know what you have to do… where you have to go. You have to stay away from your people—those you love are gone."_

It could not be true.

"_You have to leave."_

A flash of familiar red eyes flickered in my memory again. Were these the eyes that belonged to that voice? Were these the commands I had to follow? I could remember my mother telling me to leave; perhaps this voice belonged to a friend of hers? Perhaps he could help?

I had to find him.

My eyes flew to the grassy floor, still slightly damp from the rain that must have fallen—but I could not remember it stopping. I searched for footprints on the ground but found nothing very helpful. A few paces away from where I stood the grass had been taken up in some kind of struggle; I thought that was probably the best place to start.

I realised as I walked those few short paces that my breaths did not seem to have the same relieving effect. I took a breath, but nothing seemed to happen as I did so. Deciding to test my theory, as I knew this could not be true, I held my breath.

And held it.

And held it, tight…

Normally I would be gasping for breath now, unable to keep hold on any longer. The truth was something I could barely comprehend. I no longer _needed_ the air to fill me to live. Exhaling in shock, I cast my new eyes about me again. Something had changed me so completely I no longer knew myself.

_What was I?_

I had to find the man with red eyes.

"_You do not know it now, but when you wake again, you will be a vampire and I will not be able to save you. We must part ways here. Do not follow me."_

His voice sounded as clear as mine. But if he knew what had happened to me, could give me the answers, what kind of fool would I be if I did not follow him? I had to find him.

I took another breath in, smelling the leather smell that I had woken to. I could not wear leather, as it had a bad affect on my skin. It had to be coming from somewhere else. Taking steady breaths in, I followed the smell through the forest to places I had never been before. Mother had never let us venture so far out into the wilderness, fearing we would be hurt by wild beasts. I walked.

**. . .**

My surroundings changed from thick trees to rolling green fields, to cavernous great cliffs. It took me days as I followed the scent, and with each step I took the burning in my throat and dryness in my mouth became more noticeable until it was at the forefront of my mind. I was beginning to forget why I was walking. What was I following? Why did I not go to drink from the river? By the cliffs a small stream poured out, beckoning me. And yet, I felt that I did not want it—could not want it. But what other answer could I give my burning throat? I could only compare it with thirst.

I reached down into the stream and brought a cupped hand to my mouth filled with water. The coolness eased the burn in my throat for a short moment before the burn seemed to grow stronger. Water, apparently, would not do. This was another change to my body that I had no answer for. Where was the strange man? How could he have made this journey in such a small amount of time? It seemed I had travelled farther than any man would choose to, and still the trail was as weak as the first time I smelt it.

Standing to my feet I carried on my journey.

"_IAGO!" Alexis' hand on my shoulder was strong, and I turned. I had no _choice_ but to turn as I heard the anguish and fear in my brother's voice. A man stood across from us in the wilderness, his clothing primitive and even then it was torn. The rain fell from above in what seemed like a warm waterfall, the sheer power of it pushing down on me. The man across from us seemed undisturbed. Lightning flashed above, lighting the man's face properly._

There was a new memory, though it stopped before the helpful part. I had only a vague impression of what had happened next…

_His eyes looked like dark pits in his face, shadowed by the angle the light from the lightning came from. The hair atop his hair was darker than any colour I had seen before, seeming to leach the colour from his face. His skin was the most striking part of his appearance—the colourlessness comparable only to that of a corpse. This man was… unique. And terrifying. _

I could feel the fear tense in my bones as the memory returned to me, making me immediately uneasy. At least I had some idea of what I was looking for now. But where had the red eyes of my memory come from?

"_Watch out!" I pulled my brother behind me, keeping him safe from the strange man—the man who looked as though he were a corpse animated. The man crouched low, seeming to expect something. I could feel Alexis' shaking body up against my own and I knew I had to protect him._

"_Stay back!" I told the man, who answered only with a snarl. He could not be any kind of civilised being; this man could not know how to speak. And yet he hunted us… was he a savage? Perhaps. "We have done you no harm. Allow us to leave." I wondered where I had found my confidence. But I did not have much time to wonder as a white blur filled my vision. _

"_NO!"_

My brother's voice rung loudly in my head, his fear stopping me from thinking of anything else. In my memory, I could feel myself falling backwards onto the forest floor. Tree roots dug into my back, crippling me. Sharp teeth pressed against my neck, causing pain at first and then a relief. I felt myself becoming weaker and weaker, lighter and lighter until I thought I might fly. And then the pressure was relieved, giving way to torturous, excruciating pain. I could hear my brother's strangled cry beside me, but I could not find it in myself to care. I knew only the pain coursing through every part of me, jarring me into awareness.

I felt heavy.

And then I slept.

I thought that maybe my body was shutting down, choosing to die because it did not wish to be alive anymore; could not stand to suffer the pain. I would fall in and out of wakefulness, the red eyes I remembered coming into vision. I was not dying. I was burning.

But why had I not remembered this before?

Another protection, perhaps.

Sometime later, I had fully woken to broken memories and a confused mind. Alone. In truth, that was the last time I had slept. I had been awake for days without showing sign of exhaustion; this was no doubt why I had forgotten about sleep. I pressed my fingers to the space under my eyes searching for tired flesh, and found none. I looked to my feet, seeing that the shoes I had been wearing were worn through to nothing. I walked in bare feet from now on. I walked with the aim of finding the man who had come for me, and I hoped that Alexis would be with him.

I looked down into the stream that ran alongside my feet, seeking my reflection. I stared into the face of a stranger. _Whose eyes were these_? They were black, nothing but black. Empty like the man who had attacked us. My face was just as pale as his, too. My features were sharper, more angular. My hair appeared fuller and several times shinier than the last I had seen it. More changes I could not explain. I was tired of being unable to explain anything. I wanted some answers!

He _had_ to be found!

**. . .**

The man I was following had made his way into a city I could not name; it was after dark and everybody was sleeping. I was relieved to find that his scent had become gradually stronger as I walked through the city, taking in all the familiar smells I knew from my own tiny village. But there was an even more powerful aroma all around me, pouring out of open windows and leaking under the doorframes. My throat burned stronger still, aching through every part of me.

I did not even have to think before I went for the delicious scent.

**. . .**

Much later I wiped the blood from my mouth, the burn in my throat greatly decreased. I looked down at my last victim, disgusted with the uneven angle her head lay at to her body. But her blood had been sweet, and more pleasant than any drink I had consumed in my lifetime. Her face was blood spattered and restless; I attempted to tug the corners of her lips up into a smile. Nevertheless, it was a falsity I could not deny. She had not been happy in her last moments. She had desperately tried to push me away, but I could not have cared less. I wanted only for the nectar that coursed through her veins.

I brushed a careful hand over her eyes, shutting them so she looked as though she might have been asleep. I did the same to each body I came to, a terrible feeling tugging where my heart should have beaten in my chest. That was yet another change I noticed—no heartbeat. I was used to the oddities I found now though, somewhat comfortable in my inability to explain. I knew I would find this man. _I had to_ and I would as long as I had his scent in my nose.

With a sigh I took the candle that had been set on the tabletop and let it drop to the floor where I draped a bedcover over the bodies. The sheet caught alight and I watched it burn brightly, charring the flesh that lay below. Pale. Still. Dead.

I needed to move on, or else grief would drive me mad. The death of these five would be forgotten soon enough: time heals.

"Iago," a voice whispered hesitantly from the doorway. But when I looked up, whoever had spoken was gone… though the strong trace of the man's scent lay there. I rushed out into the street then, leaving the fire burning behind me. It would do what it willed to the house. I needed to find this man.

There he stood at the end of the road, where he beckoned. He wore the same clothes as in my memory, had that dark hair and those crimson eyes. It was him for sure.

"Stop!" I called to him, before he ran off at a pace I almost could not track. I followed him, catching up to him easily at a rate I could not relate to any other time in my life. I had never moved so quickly, and I was never gladder of it. I caught his shoulder after a moment, and he slowed to a stop.

"I had hoped you would not take the initiative to follow me. Actually, I _told_ you not to follow me," he said resentfully. "Nevermind, I suppose it was a foolish expectation. My name is Henry." He turned and offered his hand for me to shake.

"Then why on earth did you call my name?" I asked exasperatedly, ignoring his outstretched hand. He let it drop to his side before he spoke again.

"I was momentarily shocked by your resourcefulness—not many newborns would think of covering their tracks." His speech was accented by a tongue I could not place. He certainly was not from these parts, though. "I knew you were following me anyway, and I saw no point in leading you any further. I thought it would be best to have this conversation done with, and then I can be on my way." His dismissive tone did not quite match his expression. There was feeling in his eyes, a look of regret. What he regretted I could not tell yet.

"Well here I am, and I want some answers," I told him determinedly.

"They all do," he mumbled under his breath. I could not tell whether he meant for me to hear or not. "Carry on, what questions do you have? Let me guess: What did you do to me?" A reluctant smile twisted across his face at my surprised expression.

"Well I can answer you straight away with that one." He turned around to walk again, his steps making almost soundless indentations in the ground. We were out of the city now and back in the countryside. I supposed I was meant to follow him if I wanted to know anything about the strange changes to my body. "You are a vampire now, Iago. You drink blood—as I am sure you took note of back there. You will not age. You will not change. You cannot die at the hands of any average person; only someone like you or I could kill you. You will never tire, and thus never sleep. It is impossible, and trust me I have tried it. That is what you are Iago, and this is how you will be for the rest of time."

My brow furrowed as I tried to understand, before a thought occurred to me. "If I do not age, and no-one can kill me… how will I die?" I wondered if I would be one of the unfortunate men who died for seemingly no reason at all. Inexplicably.

"You cannot die, Iago. You will live forever." He studied the world around him, gazing up at the dark sky and then to the shadowed horizon. "How did you get here without being seen?" Henry inquired absently.

"Where did my brother go?" I countered. His face twisted in pain, his mouth creasing in displeasure. This was not a promising reaction. "He was with me, and then I woke up alone sometime later on the floor."

"He is gone. I told you this. In one of your lucid spells," he replied haltingly.

"Gone where? And where is my mother? You told me my loved ones were gone, but what does that _mean_? _Gone_?" I grabbed his arm, forcing him to stop walking. But Henry refused to look at my face. "I thought you wanted this conversation 'done with'," I goaded him.

"They are dead, Iago. My friend killed your mother, and then I killed your brother." I released his arm as if he had stung me; I could not bear to touch him. "It is a regrettable situation, I know. I am very sorry about this. It is easier when you leave no survivors…" He turned away again, forcing his eyes forward to the horizon. This time when he started walking again I did not stop him.

"Why did you leave me?" I asked him, my voice carrying no further than an arm's length away for any average man's ear to hear. Yet Henry heard. And stood. "If it is truly easier to leave no survivors, why was _I_ spared?"

"Your brother fought so desperately for your life, how could I ignore him?"

And then he was gone.

I fell to pieces.

What had I to fight for if there was no brother to hope for, no mother to keep safe? Where was I to go in my indestructible body and completely destroyed mind?

**. . .**

**IPOV**

"The next day, another vampire found me in the countryside, glowing in the sunlight as I was. He said he had to stop me from exposing myself any further, or the Volturi would have me. Of course I had no idea what this vampire was talking about, but he took me under the cover of trees and asked me about myself. I had not a great deal to say, obviously.

"So he decided to take me to Volterra, made sure I had an audience with the Elders. It turned out he was a member of the Guard himself… I was very lucky that he was in the same neck of the woods as I was. Without him, I do not know what would have happened to me. Urias took me under his wing and made sure I fed. He made sure I did not fall into the abyss of depression again as I had when he found me. He also helped me to forgive Henry for his crimes."

Iago offered me a small smile in what I supposed he thought was reassurance. I was anything but reassured.

"He died on one of Caius' werewolf hunting missions. They had taken too little vampires for the number of werewolves they were surprised with. The year my guess would be, was 1360. I will always be thankful for his presence in my life, will forever be in his debt for what he gave me."

He turned to me then, pulling away from Kate's close embrace to take both of my hands.

"And then 40 years later, you arrived. And 400 years later—" Iago released one of my hands to take Kate's. "—I met Kate. I have learned to be satisfied with my life, though my beginnings were…" He looked down and Kate wiped a tear from his cheek.

I took the hand he clasped and pressed it to my cheek, filled with empathy and appreciation for him. I'd had no idea where he had come from, where he had started off. I felt sick with how I had treated him earlier.

"My brother…" He swiped his thumb lovingly across my cheek. "I am sorry."

I could not stand to be near him.

**A/N: Penny for your thoughts?**


	17. Time To Tell Pt I

**Time To Tell – Part 1**

My hand came up to ply his fingers from my face, tugging easily before giving his hand back to him. I could not be near him, knowing everything I knew now and then thinking of all those moments in time he had kept his experience from me. He had so many chances to tell me… he had left me to think I was entirely alone in the world. But there he was, practically my flesh and blood. _He had known Henry_.

He had known his cruelness and his kindness. He had known the way his words shivered across your skin, filling you with a feeling of emptiness. Iago _knew_ and he did not tell me, did not let me know that what I was speaking was the truth. With Ember I had this hair band in my pocket, I had this to prove she existed somewhere else but my memory. But I had no such insurance to prove Henry or Ransley existed. I could not speak of them with anyone on the mission that destroyed our coven; they knew my companions only at their worst. But Iago _knew_ Henry, even if it was only for a few moments. A fleeting glance, really, by comparison to my connection with him.

Still, the connection was there and I could not bear to be near my brother as he stood now. "You knew him and you did not tell me, Iago." What I stated was fact, but Iago looked only confused. I might as well have spoken in a foreign language.

"You knew Henry and you did not tell me. You knew it was the same Henry. You had every measure of insurance to say so. Yet, I was never informed of our connection until now. This… I will find hard to forgive. For that, I am sorry."

I turned then, sparing only one backward glance for Iago's shocked face as I left for the mountains. My feet moved under me as swiftly as they ever did, carrying me away from the scene I could no longer face. Kate would no doubt hate me if we ever met again, but I was glad she was close enough to him to feel so protective. Iago deserved at least that, even if I could not be his friend. His sister.

Here was my life being snatched away from me again. I had tried to mend my and Iago's friendship, but his confession had ruined it. How did I know he was not hiding anything else from me, simply because he feared I would not like him anymore? His calculation had been right, though not for the reason he had found. I could not know or ever know how I may have reacted if he told me sooner. What if he had told me when he first realised it was the same? I wanted to believe that I would have asked only for more information, wanting to get to know everything about Henry; I might have wanted to compare his Henry to the one I knew. But I could not know.

This ignorance I felt I could not forgive Iago at this moment—if ever.

**. . .**

I found myself leaning against a tall rock in a tiny clearing in the forest, watching the dawn light flood in from above. The stone at my back is supportive and constant, holding me upright. I wonder what would happen to me if this rock did not rest here; would I roll back down the hill? I felt as though I might just let the forces of gravity take me. I did not care where I landed next.

A rustling in the undergrowth disturbed my silent vigil, sounding a great deal like footsteps on the dusty ground. Taking in a breath, I could smell the honey and lilac scent that was Edward and relaxed. I supposed he had had been sent to find me, to coax me back into the Cullen house. But while Iago remained there, I could not return. I would stay out here as long as it took.

"Someone sent you out here, did they?" I inquired of him as he came into sight. His bronze hair was bright in the dim morning light, seeming to shimmer almost as his skin did. I could not help but feel a sense of relief in his presence, knowing that I could trust him to keep everything to himself. And now I had let go finally of Ransley, I could start to contemplate something different between Edward and myself. Of course, I chose this moment to begin to block my thoughts from him. I did not want him to get ahead of himself, and so started to recite the Periodic Table in my head.

"I sent myself," he replied easily, though a furrow in his brow appeared. He was apparently not expecting me to block my thoughts from him.

"I hope you did not expect a straightforward explanation from me; nothing about me and Iago is uncomplicated." A small smile curved his mouth, though the expression did not reach his eyes. I thought he looked sad, perhaps mournful. "Is there a reason for your expression?"

"The Denali coven has left." He let that hang in the silence for a while, allowing it to sink into my mind. I found the idea hard to comprehend. I had thought that they would stay for their expected time—their traditional time—and then leave. I could return then, if they still wanted me.

"When?"

"Last night," was Edward's short response. He took hesitant steps toward me, as though he were approaching a spooked horse.

"I am sorry." I meant that. I had not thought my reaction would force him and his coven from the Cullens' arms. Yet another thing on my conscience…

"It wasn't your fault." He offered me a reassuring smile, just as Iago had tried to last night. "I heard what happened in his mind when he returned, Kate's mind too. It came as a shock, no doubt."

"The worst of shocks…" I paused a moment, considering what I might say next. What would be appropriate? But if I was meant to be looking to Edward in a new way, I had to open up to him didn't I? It was better to reveal all, ultimately. "I feel betrayed by him. He violated my trust."

"It's true that he should have told you what he knew, but he had a valid reason—"

"Well it isn't valid enough for me, Edward!" I rose to my feet, pushing against the rock to pick myself up. "He should have told me. He shouldn't have kept it to himself, only _guessing_ at a negative reaction. He could not have known what my reaction would be, and now we will never know!"

Edward stopped his slow advance towards me, his gaze taking measuring looks all over me. Unintentionally I had curled into a hostile stance, ready to spring an attack on him at any given moment. This, obviously, was not what I wished for. Quickly I straightened my back, leant against the rock once more. He was stood beside me then, closer than he had ever been; it was both unnerving as well as pleasant. His breaths touched side of my face. He cocked his head.

"I'm sorry for assuming, I clearly don't know the whole story…" his voice trailed off suggestively, his eyes imploring. He was waiting for me to reveal everything. I supposed this was what it meant to open up. The brief insights he had gained into my past when I was off guard were fragmented and disconnected. He certainly did not know the whole story.

And yet he seemed interested in me. How could that be?

"Why do you like me so much? What have I done to deserve you? You were so resistant at first…" I studied his expression carefully, measured the calm exterior against what I could see in his eyes. I had heard that the 'eyes are the windows to the soul', and though I no longer believed in souls, the eyes were always the most telling feature in a man's face. That I could not deny. Edward's eyes were golden and wondrous.

"I like you because you're strong; I know at least that you have suffered the loss of your greatest companions and then stood up again. You've lived a length of time I could not imagine passing without going mad. I like you because you are intelligent and even then willing to learn; some vampires of the same age would become complacent, but not you. Your will is unwavering, your word when given is resolute. You're trustworthy. And as well as this, you are completely beautiful. I adore every part of you, Isabella." He leaned down, meaning to kiss me. I swiftly turned my head, presenting him with my cheek. I wasn't quite ready for kissing, yet. I had not been kissed by anyone but Ransley.

When Edward's lips touched my cheek, he looked crestfallen but resigned. "I am sorry… not yet, but soon." His eyes brightened at the use of 'yet', but he still stepped back a pace. The distance was probably better for what I had to do next. "I think it's time I lay the whole story down for you."

"I don't mean to force you, Isabella…" I pressed a hand across his lips.

"I am not forced; this will make things a great deal easier. Now, it's not a pleasant tale, but it is all true. Everything that is wrong with me now I blame on my own beginnings." With a sigh I sat down again against the rock and patted the earth beside me for Edward to sit. He did so without question.

"They say that if you keep thinking of your human life, the memories will not fade as completely as many vampires have found. With what a… troublesome time it was, I have not allowed myself to forget anything. I remember tripping in the street and grazing my hands, they drew blood. I had been on my way to the water well in my little village just outside of London. I knew something was wrong, I could feel it in my bones. When I reached the well, Henry, cruel as he was teased me before he took me. I remember holding onto a tiny wooden pendant around my neck, thinking I was going mad; I never saw it again after that day come to think of it.

"When he took me, I could not scream. I could not find it in me. I knew that day would be my last day on Earth, somehow I knew it. When we reached a clearing in the forest, I begged him to kill me. I didn't want my ordeal to last very long. I wanted to go quickly. But then he said, "Actually, I planned to make you one of my own." He was so cold as he said it, I had no idea what those words meant until he bit me.

"Immediately after the change I killed three people. I felt awful. I was battling with my thirst, willing myself not to go on and kill more people, take _more_ blood. I felt resentful of Henry for putting me in this position, I hated him actually. He came then to help me with the bodies."

"_Isabella, are you well?" he asked, repeating my name in an attempt to gain my attention. I turned slowly away from the eyes of my unwitting victim and found a pair of crimson eyes filled with worry. His expression quickly became one of relief as he looked me over, seeing nothing amiss he came to sit beside me. "Isabella?" _

"_Yes?" I said to the roof. I vaguely noticed Henry closing the woman's eyes and waiting for me say something more, but I was so angry I feared I may rip apart this man who brought about my demise. I wanted to tear him limb from limb and feed him to the wolves. I hated this man, but I put on a polite smile and turned to him._

"_How are you?" he questioned once more, his eyes searching mine for anything that might indicate sadness. I suppose what he found was just as bad. Emptiness. Henry took my hand in his and stroked the skin, "I'm not a mind-reader Isabella. I need you to tell me what's wrong so that I can help." _

"_I'm dead. That's what's wrong," I replied sharply. Henry looked hurt for a moment and his fingers stopped their ministrations. I hoped I made him feel at least one ounce of the self-loathing and disgust I felt towards myself; he clearly had no problem with this life._

"_You're not dead. You're living your life differently," he told me with certainty and offered me a kind smile. "I used to think that way too, but I found that as long as I thought myself dead, I would be dead. I found myself standing in the middle of a forest, staring into the skies and willing an end to my never ending life. I was there in body—but not in spirit. _

"_That idea trapped me for a few thousand years. But a short time ago my perspective of the world changed. I decided that as long as I was on this earth, I must appreciate the time I have. You never know when it will be cut short."_

"This idea helped me for a short time, but like every vampire, I lamented the life I had lost. As well as this I was having a crisis of conscience, _and_ I was a newborn vampire. I really wonder at how I did not _kill_ Henry myself! He treated me so poorly in the beginning, when I was in denial."

"_How long will it take for the fire in my throat to go away?" _

"_It won't ever go away. All we can do is drink blood to make it bearable," he said after a long time, his face expressionless. He was trying not to show sadness, but it was evident on his face. I felt that sadness intensified by ten. My lips turned down at my realization, I had been taken from all I knew and thrown into this mad world of vampirism. I didn't want to think of this, but if I was ever going to get over my fear and savour my life I needed to. "If you were to see me hunt, you'd get the hang of it. I know it. I was just like you once," he smiled slightly. "I got the scent and ran, just like you. Can you see it, Isabella?" he pulled my chin upwards like my father used to when he wanted me to be happy again. _

"_Please see it," Henry pleaded with me. "How you reacted was perfectly natural—"_

"_Natural?" I interrupted, shocked by his foul claim._

"_Yes, natural! You forget that you are a vampire now and that __was __perfectly natural for a vampire!" His eyes were ablaze with anger, much like mine. "Of course, the basest human teaching is not to kill, but we can't help ourselves!" Henry gestured to himself desperately trying to make me believe his own philosophy. "Vampires are __meant__ to kill! It is what we are. You have to accept that Isabella. I have tried to be gentle with you. I really have! But you won't listen." _

_Suddenly he lifted me to my feet and dragged me further into the forest. We were both so angry. I struggled and flailed my arms around, but his grip was strong. There was no point in fighting him. I was going wherever he was taking me, whether I liked it or not._

"_Hear me when I say this Isabella. You are being a stubborn little girl and I need you to grow up. You are being excruciatingly pessimistic and I don't need your tales of woe on top of my own!"_ _His eyes flashed in anger. All I could think of was how rude he was suddenly being. How _dare_ he treat to me like that? Was I an animal? Especially as he was dragging me by the arm. I don't know where he worked up the nerve._

"_How dare you treat me like this? Where do you get the gall to tell me to grow up? All the while you are dragging me through hundreds of miles of forest! I am entitled to my disgust at how I've just killed three innocent people." I struggled free of his grip and stopped beside a large oak tree with fury in my eyes. Henry came to me with his hand held out in front of him, gesturing for me to take it. The same hand that just dumped a dead body at my feet. The same hand that had grabbed onto my shoulder and restrained my struggling, agonized form. I looked at his hand and grimaced. "You expect me to take your hand after everything you have done?" I asked him, disbelief colouring my face. He was angry, but so was I. And I could also see the sadness lying beneath the mask of his anger._

"_The best way to deal with a child is to act like one," he replied quietly with threat in his voice. "They'll listen to what you have to say because they have no choice. How can you ignore someone screaming your face?" I half expected him to chuckle with that comment, but his face held all the seriousness in the world._

"_I am _not_ a child!" I cried with anger, again willing tears to come._ _I punched the ancient oak tree in frustration, it fell with a crash onto a pine tree which shuddered then fell into another pine. I watched with awe as they supported each other. I had destroyed two more lives with one of my own tantrums. Not out of necessity. I clearly was the child here and with that thought, I hung my head._

"_Oh…but you are Isabella, and I think you realise that now." His voice was silken now; no longer filled with anger he stepped forward and put a hand on my shoulder. "You've done nothing but sob and argue since your change, isn't it time you thought of the other more exciting parts of vampirism?" Henry put his hand under my chin, tilting it upwards. _

"Ah," Edward murmured. I looked to him in surprise at his interruption.

"What is it?" I asked of him. He would not look at me though, only the horizon.

"I understand why likening you to a child so upset you, now. I'm sorry for my mistake." I patted his hand at his side in reassurance.

"It's done now," I said simply. There was no point in dwelling on that unfortunate incident, though he did spark the decision that led me to stay to meet Iago. I was not sure yet whether I wished Iago had told me or not.

"Sorry for interrupting you," Edward apologised, motioning for me to continue.

"I came to terms somewhat with the existence of vampires then, and the fact that I was one. Henry introduced me to my strength and my speed, reminded me of all the wasted human hours that could be put to much better use now. _Like a child_, I was fascinated and thrilled by all he presented to me. We went to Barnstaple next, in the south west of England." I pulled the purple hair band out of my pocket, showing it to Edward but not allowing him to take it.

"There I first heard of Ransley, and there I first met Henry's love, Ember. She was beautiful, like all vampires, and she had blonde hair. She was the first vampire I ever met that abstained from human blood, favouring the blood of animals instead. Her eyes were that peculiar golden colour; at least, it was peculiar then. She was the second vampire I ever met. Ember was kind and clearly cared a great deal for Henry. It was worse for her than it was for me when Henry died. She loved him, but I still question whether he loved her. I hope so. She deserved to be loved.

"I didn't see Ember again until 1999. That time, we were there only to find out where Ransley was. It was then I first heard of the immortal children. Henry was worried that I would count as one, given my childish behaviour. He told me of the Volturi and how they worked as a kind of law enforcer of vampires. He told me he loved me like his own daughter." I wiped a tear from my eye quickly, thinking of his words then. "He was truly very worried for my safety… then."

"A few days later we had made the journey to Edinburgh and met Ransley in an alehouse. I remember his blonde hair and thinking him handsome, but he seemed to have no such regard for me. He looked like he wished me away. He was Irish, I learned later on. But I marvelled at his odd accent, thinking it so unusual I could hardly fathom it. He was the one who called me, 'Bella'. Ransley let us know that the immortal children were a great deal younger than I was, and so as long as I had control of myself the Volturi would leave me alone. It was a great relief.

"We left Edinburgh and made our way south, first to Carlisle and then to Chester. During the journey, I grew closer to Henry and Ransley. Ransley seemed to calm Henry and make him more sympathetic, which meant he went easier on me when I had more crises of conscience after kills. I often thought about drinking from animals, but I was too afraid to upset Henry. I didn't want to lose my only friends in the world to what he perceived as a triviality.

"Just outside of Chester, we met Alistair."

**A/N: This chapter would have been too long if I carried on right to the end, so this seemed like a good dividing point. I hope this won't be too repetitive for those of you who have already read _The Immortal Child. _Thank you for sticking with the story so long! **


	18. Time To Tell Pt II

**Time to Tell – Part 2**

"He was crouched in the corner of an old shack in some woodland, shaking with fear. Beside him we found a young girl of no more than five or six years; Alistair was terrified of her as she slept. I could see no reason for his fear. And then she showed me."

_In the distance there was a girl with deathly pale skin, she staggered on a long pathway alone. The sun set and everything was plunged into darkness, but the girl remained in light. She eventually came into view and suddenly it hit me. This girl was me. I wore a tattered dress and mud covered me from head to toe. I appeared gormless, not completely there but not so terribly unaware I wouldn't notice if a stone gouged out my eye. My eyes, they burned red and the darkest shade of crimson—almost black—blood fell from my lips in droplets. I was dead. Any sign of life I had in my human years, in the past few weeks were gone from this girl. My Isabella. Destroyed._

"I remember when I was roused from the dream—or perhaps nightmare—that all I could see was the blue colour of her eyes. I was horrified by what I saw. The aloneness of it, the complete emptiness of my soul. I appeared to be dead, at least, in _my_ eyes. I could not face such a thing happening.

"It seemed she had shown Alistair his own death. Emily's gift—curse, whichever way you want to look at it planted an insane idea in Henry's mind. He saw himself as some kind of vampire overlord, believed himself capable of overthrowing the Volturi with just this girl. With just her talent. I believed her to be a demon at the time."

"_This girl will be the means to an end," Alistair said gravely. The child still slept even after the sun had set; Alistair, Ransley and Henry were discussing her fate in response to my verdict of demonic possession. Alistair was the only one who agreed, Ransley remained unsure while Henry had his mind completely set on changing the girl with the promise of nationwide recognition. _

"_The Volturi could never harm any vampire again with Emily…" Henry replied gleefully. "Of course they have done a marvellous job in getting rid of the immortal children, but really. Should the creators be prosecuted as well? Surely they must have as good a reason as mine for changing Isabella."_

"They fought for a time, but they said they could not make a decision without my thoughts on the subject of changing Emily voiced. _Now_ I don't believe it would have made a difference to Henry whether I agreed or not. He would do what he wanted."

"_Kill it," I said. "It is born from hell, and it must be destroyed." My eyes opened to the same room I had seen before—there was no darkness as yet—though the expressions on my friends' faces looked to be as bleak as a storm cloud. Henry was decided, as was Alistair. They were equally for and against the child being killed or changed. Ransley, however, sat beside me with his face a picture of horror and fear. _

"_Maybe it is a reaction that her body has, and she can't control it Isabella." Henry pleaded with his eyes and glided closer to me, "You probably scared her half to death." He went to the child on the floor, his speed was hesitating and he stayed a good yard from where the girl slept. Her face was so human and peaceful that you would never guess the amount of destruction and death that was hidden very cleverly behind the icy blue orbs of her eyes. _

"_But why does that reaction lie in her, exactly? Why is the child named Emily? That name bears the meaning of a rival—someone to be feared surely. Please see sense Henry! She is ill," Alistair shouted in his desperation, his eyes wild._

"_You may fall victim to these superstitions Alistair, but I won't be deterred by them. I've seen too much to believe in such fallacy, they are nothing but coincidences. All of them. Every single event you can blame on superstition, but the truth lies in the hands of fate." Henry pointed to Emily, who lay on the floor. His elaborate display of emotion shocked all of us. It was only Ransley who had not spoken yet and I looked to my left at him; he appeared determined when he opened his mouth to speak next._

"_So all of our lives have been played with, like the play things of Fate? And we were all meant for this life, as vampires because someone we cannot see said so. Because that is what you are saying amounts to," Ransley stood now and ended his path chest to chest with Henry. "But didn't you determine Bella's fate when you saw her and changed her?"_

_Henry was unwavering in his resolve as he went on to answer him. "No, I sealed Isabella's fate; Fate laid me on my path through her village. Fate made her step out into the street and fall. Fate made her bleed."-_

"_And that is where Fate's intervention ended Henry. __You__ made the decision to abduct and change her into a vampire." Ransley turned his back and took several steps away from Henry. "__You__ did that to her." Henry's arm dropped to his side, his face was horrified and panic-stricken. _

_As much as I hated this situation, I hated the look on Henry's face more. He never lost hope. Never was scared. But then, I'd only known him a matter of weeks…I sighed and stood. Everyone but the sleeping child looked in my direction, their heads swinging round swiftly._

"_Henry, are you quite sure you could control her?" I just didn't want our little group to break up; I wouldn't let a five year old tear us up. The vision Emily had put in my head came to mind and I shuddered. If I had no-one to stop me from becoming the monster that I worked to hide, if I had no-one to remind me of whom I was; surely this creature would triumph. The animalistic, vampiric tendencies would claim my body and rule to quench my thirst with no consideration for anyone else. I could not allow that to happen. _

"_Yes, I'm sure I could control her, she could be easily contained." Henry smiled gleefully again, with thanks in his eyes._

"Now I take his desperate expression as one of shocked determination. He thought that if he was to carry out the change, he would have to leave us all behind. He would have to be alone with Emily. I have _**no**_ doubt that he would have done it. Of course, that didn't stop everyone else blaming me thereafter.

"Henry changed the child far away from Alistair and we hid on the edge of a forest. Emily gave Henry a vision… only then did he realise his mistake. But by then it was too late. None of us could muster the courage to destroy Emily, none of us truly wanted to, and soon, none of us could. That evening I had my first vision; I saw the Volturi Elders receive Alistair's message about the creation of an immortal child. He had made sure that we would have no time to escape… he probably went straight for the Channel the second we left with Emily. Henry felt so betrayed; we all did.

"He gave up the moment I told him what I saw, tried to make us all see what he saw for ourselves. The Volturi would track us down and they _would_ kill us. I did not want to believe it, preferring to think that there was a possibility I could escape. I hoped Ransley could too. So I left them."

_I stood up, trying to make myself as tall as possible and approached Henry slowly, with measured steps. "You've ruined us all, Henry! We will all pay for your foolishness and your self-absorbed dreams of majesty falling to your feet because of THAT thing!" I punctuated my point by thrusting a pointed hand in the direction of the demon child. "I shouldn't even be in this situation! I was quite content in my little human life, not a worry in the world. I had a mother and a father and I had a LIFE! I HATE YOU! YOU ARE THE MOST DISGUSTING BEING I HAVE EVER LAID MY EYES ON AND…" I trailed off. I didn't want to say I wished death on him, because truly I didn't. But by God, I hated him. I never wanted to see him again. "…and I never want to see you or Emily ever again. I want to believe I have some chance at living at least a week more before whatever comes for me comes. I will have warning, you won't, you won't know what hits you until it does," I hissed through clenched teeth, and I felt myself crouching further until I was almost ready to pounce on him. But I stopped myself. I would not have a hand in his death, I would leave him. _

"As I made my way away from them I had more visions of the Volturi, and my head seemed to split open with each one that came. Ransley followed me shortly afterwards, said he would look after us. He really did look after me. He also confessed his love for me."

_Ransley took me in his arms and sat me in his lap, leaning against his chest. He rocked us back and forth and whispered an old song in Gaelic. His hands stroked my hair and played with the ends. When I looked up at his face, he looked straight ahead with a strained expression upon his features. His eyes were the darkest of blacks and he took a breath in. And when the moon was high in the sky he pulled me tighter to his chest. _

"_It's midnight," he said suddenly. His head was turned towards the moon wonderingly, the strange shape of it still creating a good amount of light. His skin was that of the dead's, not even his eyelids bore any sign of life. His blonde hair was bizarrely full and shone in the light. I settled my head against his neck and took in his scent—honeysuckle. I wished I could cry when I thought of what would be undertaken today._

"_Ransley, I'm so sorry," I said almost silently. I knew I would begin to sob soon if I didn't pull myself together. I had to be the strong one here. It was at least in part my fault, I realised now. I had told Henry to do what he wanted for the sake of my sanity…the insanity Emily had shown me terrified me and I needed a way out. So Henry created an immortal child. _

"_You have nothing to be sorry for, Bella," he told me as he turned to me and lifted my chin up so I would look at him. My eyes met jet black and the stars of the night. He held my chin in two of his fingers, his grip firm and soft. "This is all on Henry's head," he said this with finality. As if no-one could deny it. The Volturi would though, and they would challenge us. _

"_We will still pay for it though," I replied sadly. At this Ransley let my head go and turned to the skies again, praying words on his lips. I shook my head and rested against his chest again. "You know God cannot help us Ransley." I was surprised he had not lost his faith by now, because mine had long been gone and I'd only been in this existence for scarcely a month. _

"_I can still try though, can't I? You may have lost any belief you ever had, but He is still in here providing for me the strength I gather every second I spend with you." I looked up at him, hurt by his admission. I was a task to him, no wonder. My wild moods nearly sent Henry mad. _

"_So I am a trial for you," I breathed. "Every moment you sit here with me is out of pity. I could understand that. 'Poor Isabella, this is all her fault. I should look after her pathetic little soul until Death finds her and sends her to Hell.'" I stood up as I spoke and went to the very edge of the clearing, my feet making deep impressions in the ground as I stomped. _

"_No, that's not true at all." Ransley was behind me in a second, his hand gripping my shoulder and turning me around. "For one, if I hated you why would I spend the last few moments of my life with you? And for two, nothing is your fault in this. You said it yourself, this is all on Henry." His eyes searched my face, and his hand moved from my shoulder to my hand. He gripped it in his own hand and kissed each of my fingers tenderly. "You're not a task." He smiled slightly, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. _

"_If I am not a task, then why do you need the Lord to give you strength?" I asked, pulling my hand from his and gesturing to the sky above. I was met with silence. He paused for a moment before he took both of my hands and swung them between us. His whole body was tensed when he answered me._

"_Because I find myself loving you more and more each minute I spend with you." I was stunned to say the least and my heart clenched in my chest. He loved me. I turned this phrase over and over in my head, my brow furrowed. "I'd appreciate it very much if you would react somehow," he said nervously. He held my hands tightly against his chest, the fabric of his clothes rubbing on my fingers. _

_My ingenious answer was, "Err." Ransley laughed shakily. _

"_I should have expected that," he murmured, turning away from me. _

_What could I say? __What did he expect me to say__? Did he want me to leap into his arms screaming, 'I love you too'? I was afraid that would be impossible. Because I didn't love him, and I never could love him. He would wither. I felt tears prick my eyes, I didn't want to hurt him but I certainly didn't see fit to lead him on. Then again, what would it matter? We would both be dead by this time tomorrow. He would never know. I could set aside own feelings so he could express his own. _

_I sighed and put a hand on his back, he turned. I reached my hands out to him and he leant into them. I pulled him to my mouth and kissed him, I kissed Ransley because I didn't want to lose him. His hands came to cup the back of my head as he held me fast to him. His touch was fervent and carefully measured. He didn't want to hurt me._

_Finally, after what seemed like forever he let me go. He grinned and held me to his chest once more, before he sat us down. Ransley rested his head in my hair and took his first steady breath in for days. "I love you," his muffled voice came thick with emotion. "I'm sorry we didn't meet in another life."_

"_Me too," I replied. _

"I do still wish we had. I wondered what might have been, long after that moment; but then I realised there was absolutely no point in it. What could I gain from imagining something that pained me so? I didn't love him in the way he wanted me to, but I let him think I did. For that I feel guilty, though I told myself at the time that I was doing him a favour. Now I wonder if I didn't do that only because I was afraid of losing him, that I was afraid of being alone.

"I saw Emily killed. Caius wanted to keep her for her talent, but Aro talked him out of it so as young as she was—she was killed. Sometimes I feel bad about it, blame myself for her death too. But more often I blame her for tempting Henry with her gift, because that was the root of the trouble. If she had never existed, we would have gone on our way. Perhaps we would all still be together.

"'Don't play the blame game,' I remember hearing someone say. I know I shouldn't. It's torturous. Still, if I'm blaming the dead what harm can it do?" A bitter laugh escaped my lips then, and I wiped another venomous tear from my face.

"Ransley told me about his change and then how he found his sire years later—how he killed her. He blamed her for his change, hated her for leaving him when she should have cared for him. I can understand his rage now, but at the time I gave him a hard time. Ransley mentioned that she had golden eyes, and that she had taken to the Highlands of Scotland. He said that she told him she deserved to die and was glad he found her. I told Ransley that by the sounds of it she felt terrible and he should have been more understanding. He hadn't even _bothered_ to find out her _name_! But he didn't care. He seemed proud of what he had done.

"Another vision came and I saw the Volturi light a fire not far from where we had left Henry. It soon became clear to me that the purpose of the fire was to destroy Henry. I could see fabric curling in the flames, and a strangely coloured smoke rose up into the sky. I knew he was gone. I blamed myself for not listening to his pleas, to his apologies... it hadn't been good enough for me. And then I thought of how I was speaking to Ransley and realised how much of a hypocrite I was. I was telling Ransley how unfair he was being for ignoring the obvious guilt his sire felt; but there I had been doing almost exactly the same thing to Henry.

"There was no mercy between the two of us; I was as bad as him. I felt like I had been kicked in the stomach. I hated myself. Henry was dead, and I had loved him as my own father. He had loved me like I was _his daughter_. This was how I repaid him.

"By then, the Volturi arrived. Aro and his calculated, teasing speech, Lucian with his cold, distant touch and Caius with his perpetual love of fighting. They three stick in my mind most. And Eleazar of course. Ransley tried to protect us."

"_I'm not sure the situation is safe enough for you Master…" Felix said. Aro gave him a silencing look and he bowed his head in submission. Now his muscles clenched in anticipation, waiting for the call of battle. I wondered what Aro intended for me to 'get a look'. Ransley started speaking in his native tongue towards the group, a fierce expression upon his face. I wished I knew what he was saying, and apparently so did the Volturi as they stared back at him in confusion. _

_The other vampires looked as though Ransley had just danced around the May pole with no clothes on. I had no idea what he'd just said, but I would guess if the Volturi were the children of Ireland they would be quite offended. A smile started creeping up Aro's face and I knew there would be trouble._

"_Ransley…you realise your words hold no meaning to any man among us. You are the lone Irishman in this small gathering." The Englishman who stood behind us, Lucian, chuckled. Aro looked up at him with intrigue. "Do you know what young Ransley just said, Lucian?" he asked. There was a disturbance in the air as Lucian shook his head 'no'. Aro sighed, "Maybe you could have taught me Gaelic one day."_

"I knew we were goners then. What point was there in dragging it out?"

_I extracted myself from my companion's arms and squared my shoulders. "Do it then, Aro. Kill us! You've gotten to Henry. You killed Emily. We're the only ones left and we have no way to defend ourselves. Rip us to shreds like you did Thorne! But know this, we are the innocent ones here, we had no hand in Emily's creation. Henry did that. Not me, nor Ransley." Aro looked bemused by my outburst and continued to stare at me for several minutes. My gaze never dropped from his evil eyes._

_Laughter. Aro began to laugh, his mirth echoing off the trees surrounding the clearing we stood in. Aro's head was thrown back and his chest heaved with it, the joy he felt. My expression dropped from that of a ferocious dog to a stunned rabbit. What exactly about this whole thing was funny? I looked behind me at Ransley, apparently just as mystified as I was. Aro's laughter became bitter before it stopped completely. _

"_Isabella, you all but _told_dear Henry to change Emily; Henry intended to use her gift against us, the Volturi. You must be aware of the penalty for treason, surely?" His lips were in a tight line and his eyes narrowed. I did indeed know how one paid for attempting to kill the king, they paid with their lives. Hanged, drawn and quartered. _

"_I would hardly call you a king, Aro," Ransley scoffed. Aro's eyes flicked over to Ransley again, daring him to say something more; but Ransley remained silent. Lucian, who had been soundless behind us took several deliberate steps toward us and held Ransley's arms behind his back. He whispered something in his ear that was too low for me to hear and I faced Aro with a straight back and squared shoulders._

"_Aro, why are you dragging this out? Just do it." Caius smiled sadistically behind his brother and his eyes flashed to Lucian's. He raised his hand and pointed it before he let it drop swiftly. With a furrowed brow I turned to see what Lucian would do with that signal._

"_Just do it," Caius said. Lucian tore Ransley's arm from his body and then the next, yet Ransley remained quiet throughout the whole ordeal. He kept my gaze firmly on his eyes though they held no message, no last words. Just quiet resignation. Then he was gone. A fire was started and my friend was in pieces on his funeral pyre. I felt myself collapse onto my knees once more and I curled over, my vision clouding as I cried for the love I'd lost._

"And then I realised it."

_I was the immortal child all along, destructive and thoughtless. My temper tantrums had led to the deaths of my two friends. What was left for me? Emily had been more right than I realised when she showed me myself. In my fight against her vision coming true, I had made it so. Aro had said it… "__Isabella, you all but _told_ dear Henry to change Emily__." It was just one big sham. One huge, ridiculous sham. God was playing with me._

"There is no specific age when you cannot be considered a child, is what I learned. You become an adult when you act like one, and that's exactly what I have been attempting to do ever since then. Sometimes I am successful, and sometimes not; I remind myself that I am fighting against my nature. I was frozen this way over 600 years ago, and though I look the same as I did then, I like to think my character has changed. I hope I am more mature and more responsible than I was then. This is how I console myself and how I repay them. I swore it to myself as the Volturi took me across the Channel on the way to Italy."

_I swear that I will never again cower in fear, nor will I rage with anger. Such feelings lead to rash actions and rash actions achieved the demise of life as I knew it. I plan on never feeling anything again. So while I press my face into the gnarled wood, I make this vow and I close my eyes, never to be opened again._

"Of course, by attempting this I tried to make myself inhuman—if you will. I tried to make myself cold and unfeeling and wished to instil the emptiness I felt in that moment in me. It was a ridiculous vow, and naturally, I couldn't keep it. Iago helped with that. Thank goodness he did, or else I have no idea what I might have been by now.

"So there you have it Edward. It was difficult, but I'm quite proud of myself. That's everything."

"Not quite," he said simply. I turned my head to challenge him. What else was there?

"Aro spared you?" Ah.

"I have a theory that he spared me because of my gift. He could put it to good use in the Guard. He signed me up for my whole life—lives. However long I lasted. I had no choice.

"Those years would have been unbearable without Iago."

"I think you know what I'm doing, Isabella." He smiled slyly.

"Indeed I do, Edward…"

He placed one hand atop mine on my lap and brought it to his mouth to kiss.

"Thank you for sharing yourself with me, Isabella. It means a great deal to me."

**A/N: That's the end of the repeat for all your TIC readers, hopefully I kept to the vital flashbacks as far as you're concerned. haha As for those of you who haven't read it, I'm wondering what you think. Is this what you expected? **


	19. The Final Death

**The Final Death**

If it was today I died, I would be completely satisfied with my life—lives. Today, I feel whole as I rest, reclining on my back in the thick grass and bright sunlight. The world works around me and I smile at the familiar sound of insects and animals carrying on in their simple ways, ways that they have followed for hundreds of years. The sun is warm on my cold skin, and I bask in its light. The sky, it seems, could not be bluer.

Ransley sits across from me, smiling wistfully. A breeze pulls across the small clearing in the woodland and unsettles his hair; the silken mess atop his head glows gold like a halo. It completely contradicts his bright red eyes, as though he recently fed. How could something so angelic look so absolutely demonic at the same time? His skin, too, glows in the sunlight.

"It has been such a long time," he says finally, crawling forward to lie beside me. His hand takes mine as he settles into the grass. "Much too long."

"Indeed it has," I agree, squeezing his hand. "The Volturi took me, and then I was still too upset to come to this place. I tried to right my wrongs and went to the New World. It has taken a great deal of time to fix my heart, and this is me sewing the last stitch." On that last word, I turn on my side to face him. Ransley still watches the sky, observing every bird that passes over, and every whip of the trees. He looks pensive, tugging on his collar; I notice he wears the same clothes as the last time I saw him. Primitive, ancient clothing that I have not seen for an age. He has not changed at all, but then… death is permanent.

"You have moved on," he says quietly. His eyes turn towards me, but no other part of him makes the same effort. "You have changed, while I have stayed the same." Now he turns over. "Just look at your clothes! You wear materials I cannot name, and these clothes you wear could not possibly be more than a year old." His eyes sweep up and down my body, I don't miss the way his gaze lingers on my curves. Apparently even his feelings remain the same as 600 years ago. How could I have hoped for anything different?

"Your face is different, and so are your eyes. You wear the eyes of the woman who took my life." He pauses for a moment, then stands up. "You are a stranger to me." His back is turned and hunched. It seems like our last day together all over again.

Ransley's feelings are hurt and I must try to mend them.

"I am still Isabella." I put a hand on his back in some attempt to comfort him. But he will not turn. "So much time has passed; you cannot have expected me to stay the same. I carried on living, if that's what you can call this life, and I moved on." His back is tense under my hand. "I am not the same person as I was then, I grew up… at least, I did in my head. No more temper tantrums, no more whining and no more upset. I'm happier now than I was back then."

"Our romance was fleeting," Ransley admits, still cold to my touch. "I never had the time to make you happy. I had but one night to hold you in my arms, and then you were gone. Everything was gone. The grass was gone from under my feet and the light left my sight. Birdsong never seemed so beautiful once it was gone." He turns to look at me slowly, hesitantly. "You were never so beautiful than when you were gone. I could not pull you into my mind's eye but the impression of your splendour was still here." He gestures to his chest. "I only wish there had been more time."

I smile grimly at him, remembering our last night.

"You didn't seem to care when the Volturi killed you. I will never forget the emptiness in your eyes as they took you apart, threw you into the fire. I wondered what must have been going through your mind. You gave up."

Ransley reaches to take my hand one moment, and then thinks better of it. "Yes, I did give up. I had done my fighting; I had tried to keep you safe. But in the end… what use was it? It was six against two. Six incredibly talented vampires, who had the moral high ground as far as the rest of the world was concerned. We were two scallies associated with the creator of an abomination. It is terrible to do this to an adult, but it's beyond horrifying to do it to a child."

"More horrifying as we know exactly why Henry did it to Emily." I move onto a slightly less harrowing subject to avoid lashing out at him. How could he have given up? I carried on fighting, willing for something more until he died, reduced to ashes in the blink of an eye by the demons surrounding me. Ransley left it to me. He left me behind, willingly.

I was beginning to realise now that I had not loved him, could never have loved him as a romantic companion. He was cruel to his sire, uncaring of me—in truth, and he was a defeatist. I was glad of the conviction I had now gained. I was absolutely certain that Ransley was not the one for me.

But still, there remained unfinished business. The dilemma I faced now was whether to _tell_ him that I did not love him. After I misled him so long ago, would it not be crueller to tell him I lied than to keep this to myself?

Yes, I would say so.

"What made you decide to stop drinking from humans?" Ransley inquires, looking up at me through his lashes. There is such a great question in his eyes, there is no way I could lie to him. So I must recount my story of Ember's last wish.

"_Isabella," Ember whispered, more calmly than anything she had said to me today. Her head was bowed, watching me rub two pieces of kindling together. She jumped at every spark._

"_Yes, Ember?" I settled the sticks on the ground, studying her with a close eye. She appeared nervous._

"_I have already asked so much of you… I feel rude to ask for more," she stuttered._

"_Just ask." She looked up then, a slight smile on her face. There I could see the kindness in the eyes of an Ember I had known long ago. Her quiet understanding of my struggle with the bloodlust came forward now, though in a different form. Now, she understood my difficulty with laying to rest a dear friend of mine._

"_After hearing Henry died, I lost my will to do anything. He was my love, and I always hoped that I was his. One of the things I lost the will to do was abstain from human blood. I would never know whether he truly loved me… so anything I did to try to be good seemed rather pointless without him out in the world somewhere." She paused for a moment. "What I am trying to ask is whether you would drink animal blood, for me?" _

_What a thing to ask! It was a personal choice… _

"_I remember your stunned expression when you saw the colour of my eyes. You seemed to look upon me with admiration, Isabella. I remember that. I think that really, you _do_ want to be good; you just had no motivation to do it before. So now, Isabella, I am asking you to promise me you will never drink human blood again." _

"And so I promised her. She was right that I wanted to be good. I did admire her ability to abstain from human blood, right back then. But I didn't want to upset Henry, as he seemed to look down on the idea. Yet he gave the impression of having a certain respect for her decision… oh, it doesn't matter anymore. It's all gone. But now you know." I offer him a small smile, taking in his expression. His features are difficult to decipher, but he looks more shocked than anything else right now. I wonder what he must be thinking.

Was he a dear friend of Ember's too? She seemed to know him well enough, sending me and Henry off to Scotland to meet him.

"Ember died too?" He looks disgusted by me. "You killed her!"

"She asked to be." I don't flinch at his anger, because this time I know with certainty that I was right to kill her. I know that this time there is no _rational_ way to blame me. "She asked me to do that for her." Ransley's face is still contorted by fury.

"Even if she did, you should not have actually done it!"

"You don't know what happened to her, Ransley—"

"Then please, enlighten me!"

"She wasn't well. She felt like there was nothing to her world without Henry alive. Somehow, that day, I saw Henry too; only when her hands were on me, but she made me see him. I believe that she had some kind of gift to do with that, perhaps? I think he was a figment of her imagination though—he asked for my death so that she could go with him to the afterlife. I'm not entirely sure what was happening, it didn't make sense; I put it down to her madness. But she really did try to kill me, and she blamed me for your and Henry's death. She was bitter and terrified and devastated all at the same time, I wonder if it was partly because she had lived so long.

"She was a shell of her old self. When she calmed down, all she wanted was to die." I study Ransley's expression with a careful eye, and he appears to be much calmer, though I can see his hands clenched into fists. "I did the right thing, this time. I'm certain."

Ransley reluctantly nods. "She must have been in a great deal of pain."

"Oh yes, I believe she was." He walks closer to me, then takes my hand with tears in his eyes.

"I am so sorry, Bella. I am sorry for doubting you, I am sorry for leaving you and I am sorry for all of this." He gestures to the world around us. "In the human world, you would not have lived to see this. You should not have to see this. This is _all wrong_."

"It's not your fault. You weren't there."

"Perhaps that is precisely my problem, I am _never_ there."

"You were there on that last night; you were there when I used to have my crises of conscience. You were much better at dealing with them than Henry, much more sympathetic to me even though you didn't have the same problem."

"That was always Henry's trouble—sympathising. At times, I truly wondered whether he had any heart at all. Even though your heart no longer beats, still it guides you through difficult decisions. You know what I mean, no doubt, Bella." He smiles.

Of course, I knew exactly.

"Ransley… I have a new family. I came here to tell you about them. I didn't expect you to be talking back to me, of course—" I'm suddenly overtaken by a burst of laughter at the complete ridiculousness of this situation. That's a point: how _is_ he talking back? "How are you here, Ransley?"

He smiles widely in amusement. "Only now do you ask. I honestly do not know. I was nowhere only a moment ago, thinking and feeling nothing—in a dreamless sleep. And then when you arrived, it was as if you woke me up again. I have the feeling that a great amount of time had passed though. What year is it, Bella?"

"It's the year 2004, the 21st June to be exact." Ransley stares blankly back at me. "Mid-year," I clarify. "The solstice." His eyes widen in understanding then.

"So the year is two thousand and four? What year was it when…?"

"About the year 1400."

"So this is just over six hundred years after that day?" I nod. His jaw drops. "It _has_ been a long time… and they still celebrate the solstice?" Again, I nod. "It is no wonder that your clothes are so odd, then."

I look down at myself and see the jeans I find such comfort in now that I _never_ would have dreamt of wearing so long ago. I see the loose red blouse that would not have been suitable for any man _or_ woman in my time. The sandals I wear I know now to be in the style of those the Romans wore, several hundred years before my birth. Ransley is right that things have changed, I can't deny it. Even the way I speak is vastly different.

But this is all beside the point.

"I'm not sure how much time we will have, Ransley, so I really want to tell you what I came here to tell you." He returns his attention to me, after gazing in vain through the trees, trying to see something more than greenery. I think he hopes to see what the world is like now, but this place is hidden away. It's 'off the beaten track' as the saying goes. "The nearest town is miles away, Ransley, sorry."

"I have a feeling I cannot leave this meadow," he says sadly. I wish I had known to bring photos of places in my life, to bring photos of _anything_. However… you don't expect to meet ghosts.

But then again, maybe I _could_ show him some things. "My phone! My cell phone! I can reach the internet through it! I can get pictures on it!" Ransley stares at me as though I have grown a second head when I pull my phone out of my pocket.

"What is that?" he gestures to my cell phone with hesitancy.

"I can use this to call people," I explain flippantly, accessing the internet easily. "Where would you like to see?" I look up at him from the colourful lettering of Google. Still he doesn't understand. "I'll show you something," I mumble as I type 'Chester town centre' into the search engine.

Turning the phone around, I hold it up so Ransley can see the image. "Guess where that is," I say.

He shakes his head. "I have no idea."

"Chester." He furrows his bow in confusion.

"It cannot be…" It isn't long before he starts to grill me with hundreds of questions about the world today, and I try to answer him as best I can. The invention of the automobile seems to fascinate him most though; the concept of not having to travel for weeks to cross a country amazes him. He speaks of things in the way he would if he were human, almost appearing to forget his supernatural abilities. Perhaps this is another part of the process of death, the final death.

Soon the sky starts to dim, and I wonder how much time has passed. Looking at the clock on my phone, I see that three hours have gone by showing Ransley the world as it is now. I must tell him about the Cullens soon, or else I will never have any closure.

"Ransley, I've been trying to tell you today about my new family…" I say hesitantly as I slide my phone closed. He jerks away from the sound of the electronic tone as it closes. "It's why I came here. Now I want you to listen. No distractions."

He nods once before folding his legs to sit on the floor and I mirror him. He smiles at our knees, touching at the tips. I think he imagines that our connection is the same as it was all those years ago.

Today I have to break that illusion, and it will be painful for both of us.

"The Cullens, that's the name of my new family. They're all vampires, as you most probably could guess, and they all abstain from human blood. Carlisle is the oldest—"

"_Carlisle_?" Ransley snickers and I don't blame him. Who _would_ name their children after towns?

"Yes, his name is Carlisle. Now let me finish." Ransley lets out one more laugh before gesturing for me to continue by a wide sweep of his hand.

"I met him when he was going through the change; I was on a mission from Aro to eliminate vampires in the underground sewers in London. Unfortunately, Carlisle and his troop of 'demon-hunters' had already found them before we had the chance to step in. I took Carlisle to a safe place after he was bitten, barely alive, and then I was forced to leave him there. It wasn't safe for me to try and stay with him, my companion on the trip would have been compromised too if he let me carry on. So we left him." Ransley doesn't blanch at my tale and seems to accept it as a fact of life. He doesn't show disgust as I had done, as I secretly thought the Cullens had. They were just much better at hiding their expressions.

"I will always feel awful for leaving him there, though my rational mind constantly reminds me there was nothing else to be done. I had known he would be good, partly because he reminded me of you. In the glowing light of the 1600s; in the frenzy of trying to catch up with the vampire that had killed so many humans, I thought I had found you again. In my mind's eye he has your golden hair and his skin was so pale… I thought for sure that it was you.

"I thought that somehow you had escaped, had aged a few years. For that short, insane moment, I had found you again." I take Ransley's hands in mine, needing to prove his presence even more as I recount my story. "I saved Carlisle because I thought you were him." The first venomous tear of today trickles from my eye. Ransley is quick to wipe it away, holding my face in his hand as he does it.

"I am sorry."

"Don't be sorry!" I exclaim. "Carlisle is probably the best person in this world I know. If you had not been in my life before, I doubt I would have cared so much for Carlisle." Ransley retracts his hand with an unsure smile. "I'm so glad that I met you, that I ever _had _you. If it hadn't been for you, I'm certain that I would be in a very different place now. Or at least I would be telling you a different story than I am now." Ransley's smile slipped as I spoke, and I wonder what he is thinking. What does he want to say? But I can't stop now, we already stalled so much. Time is running out.

He could disappear at any moment.

"So we left, and I never saw him again—in person—until last year. You want to ask why I took so long, no doubt. But I couldn't leave Volterra; it was only in 1999 that Aro let me go. From that moment, all I could think of was finding either Alistair or Ember. I had to find _someone_ who knew what I was going through.

"I found Ember, of course. But I never found Alistair… no-one has heard from him, or indeed _of_ him."

"But he cannot have _died_? His senses let him know where to go all the time!" Ransley's voice rises to a growl. "He must be in some place."

"Hidden far away from the rest of the world, apparently. I looked for him all over Europe but to no avail. Wherever he is, it's safe from other vampires."

"You do not think the Volturi got to him because of…?"

"Not at all. He was their informant." Ransley ponders this for a moment, before a grimace distorts his face. "Do you blame him for tattling?" he asks simply.

"That is an extremely difficult question that I haven't liked to dwell on too much."

"In case you hate him?" His eyes aren't clouded with uncertainty or worry, and I envy the clearness of his mind. I'm still so unsure about a few things from back then. I _still_ don't know what to think.

"I don't know, Ransley. I really don't know." My voice is muffled as I press my face into my hands, rubbing the hard skin that won't age or tear. Somehow, the creases of upset and heartbreak have not become a part of my face. To look at, one would think my life had been blissful. Inside… things are a very different picture.

"Do YOU hate him?" I inquire curiously.

"No. I understand why he did it, and it was the right thing to do. The only fair thing to do. It is the Volturi who is to blame. They are corrupt! I am willing to bet that their way of doing things has not changed at all over the past 600 years. Am I right in thinking that?"

"Most probably," I say slowly. "Anyway, I said no distractions, did I not?" Ransley nods reluctantly, smiling slightly. I gesture to the western horizon. "Sunset will not be very far off."

"After finally giving up on Alistair, I returned to the idea of finding Carlisle again. I didn't realise it before, but I think that Aro was steering me in that direction anyway when he let me go…"

"_Isabella, my dear, I think it is time you went," Aro said by way of starting. "I cannot stand your miserable presence any longer. At every turn you beg to leave! I just cannot keep you here against your will with a clear conscience, even if it _is_ meant to be punishment to some extent." He stood in the next second, stepping down from his throne. His expectant eyes were intent on mine as I processed what was being given to me._

_Freedom? At last! The smile that appeared on my face gave Aro all the answer he needed. But… there must be a catch. He must have read my thoughts in my eyes, because what he said then only confirmed my suspicions._

"_There is one thing I want from you, Isabella. I do not think what I ask will be too much of a cross to bear." He paused then, studying my expression once more. I would not allow my hopes to rise too high, now, of course. What Aro deemed a small task could well be an entire project for me. "All I want is for you to find your purpose, Isabella. As Iago went, so will you." Iago left me, but I have no-one to leave. "Do you think you can do this?" Aro reached his hand out to take mine, and pressed his lips to my knuckles._

"_Of course, Master," is all the answer I can give. Aro smiled then and joy filled even his eyes this time. _

"_That is all the answer I need, my dear." Gently he released my hand and let it drop back to my side. "Perhaps now would be the perfect opportunity to right some wrongs in your life? I know you regret… _so much_of your time here._

"But you will be missed!"

"Now his parting words seem like a big neon sign to me, pointing across the Atlantic Ocean." I laugh at the image, though it is not truly amusing. Instead, I scoff at the thought I had never realised Aro's intentions before. He even pressed American Dollar bills into my hands! I had been reluctant to take them at first, but then realised my idiocy. How on earth was I going to get anywhere without money?

"And so I found Carlisle, met his family too; needless to say they weren't sure what to make of me. But once I explained myself, what had gone wrong… what I hoped? They were more than welcoming, at least for the most part." I smile at Ransley, but no expression crosses his face. He just watches and listens attentively.

"I think I am a part of the Cullen family now; I am friends with all of them. Carlisle and his wife Esme were clearly meant for each other, they're both so kind and compassionate. Alice can see the future; in fact, I would not be surprised if she saw us having this conversation a while ago. She's always afraid to mess up the timeline, understandably.

"Jasper… well I met him before in a senseless war between vampires during the 1800s. He left his coven though and met Alice, they got married and now they are inseparable. I'm friends with Jasper, and for that I am grateful.

"Rosalie and Emmett still keep their distance, however. I'm not sure why, but I seem to make them tense. I'm hoping that will pass with time, we only met each other last year. Some people are not as friendly as others, and I respect that." At least, that's what I tell myself. That's the reasoning I use to convince myself.

"And then there is Edward." I can't help the grin that spreads across my face. "He has been endlessly patient with me. He is the first person I ever really opened up to after all those things happened here. He has helped me to forgive myself for what happened to you. I think the day that I am entirely happy within myself is not far off.

"There is a problem I still need to solve, but the weight of wondering what I could have done differently is very gradually lifting off my shoulders." Ransley reaches for my hand.

"I do not believe I have seen a smile so wide…" he says, not without a touch of sadness. "Nor so bright—but I put that down to the sunshine." His attempt at humour seems false, hiding his true emotions.

I grip his hand tightly in mine. "What are you _really_ thinking, Ransley?" His mouth lifts on one side.

"I am thinking much the same as I did when you arrived. You have changed and moved forward while I stayed behind."

"You're dead, Ransley," I remind him abruptly, and he winces. "Sorry. This was just not the reaction I had expected."

"You expected me to congratulate you on your new beau, no doubt, to step aside and wish you well? 'Well done, Bella, you certainly _have_ moved on!'" His tone of voice leaves me gaping. "_What did you come here for, Bella_?"

Now I find my voice. "I came here to share with you what had happened since you left, Ransley. I came here to get your blessing to move forward. I suppose I must have created a rather idealised image of how you were, how you treated me. _Now_ I remember how you killed your sire, _now_ I remember how you could not care less!" Ransley stands up; his whole body tensed once more. But I'm not sorry for my words, not this time.

"Oh, but Isabella, I care _far too much_ for you!" he rumbles as he turns, a red fire of anger in his eyes. His hands are clawed, as if he means to make a swipe at me. I know he won't though… he wouldn't do that to me.

"Perhaps you do Ransley, because it seems you '_care_' too much to realise that I cannot spend forever with you." He snarls then, but there is a flicker of hurt somewhere in his expression. "You are blinded by death, Ransley. It has made you impractical and bitter!"

"And so what if I _am_ bitter? Have I not every _right_ to be? We were snatched from each other that day; one was to carry on living while the other to lie in an endless slumber. YES I am bitter, Isabella. YES I am impractical because I have no sense of _practice_ any longer."

At that moment I _do_ feel sorry for what I have said, and then quiet. Ransley huffs nearby, pacing around the clearing like a caged lion wishing for escape. "I _am_ blinded by death, Bella. I do not think I can much help that though…" he murmurs with a low chuckle. "I only wish we could have had more time."

"And now we come full circle." I offer a small smile and he returns it, walking back over to me and folding his legs under him as he sits. "It _would_ have been nice to see how we might have turned out as a couple, Ransley. But alas, we will never have that chance." His eyes flick up to me eagerly, hopefully. I can tell what he wants, and I don't think I can deny him.

Ransley sits up on his knees and reaches his hand out for my chin, his hand tracing the skin there and caressing it. There is no doubt in my mind that he loves me, but there was never any question of it; the question had been whether I ever loved him. For now, I was certain that I never had, because I knew without a shadow of a doubt that I was falling in love with Edward. Knowing how I felt about Edward, no feeling I had about Ransley could ever compare. I could not have loved Ransley.

Still, I can present an illusion to Ransley, I can pretend just for today. Edward will understand. His face comes closer to mine, his gaze quickly sliding from my eyes to my lips every few seconds. After he stays a breath away from me for too long, I realise that I must meet him in the middle.

This is _not_ like the first time we kissed at all.

My hand reaches for the back of his head and pulls him towards my lips. Kissing Ransley has a strange feel now; it's as though he isn't quite there. His breaths are like feathers in between our lips' embrace and he has no heat at all. I could be kissing air.

When I open my eyes, I realise that I am and that Ransley has run to the edge of the clearing. He is shivering; I can see his hands rub up and down his arms in an attempt to get warmth.

"Ransley?" He half turns at my call. "Ransley, what is wrong?" When he makes no reply, I stand and go to him. With growing terror as I am at closer and closer range, I can see that he is fading. On the western horizon, the sun is dipping into the darkness.

When I try to put my hands on him, my fingers go straight through his body.

"NO! You can't leave yet!" I try to grab frantically at him, but still I cannot find anything of him to hold. He hasn't stopped shivering.

"Bella… I am sorry that I was not more open to the idea of your new family—"

"That doesn't matter!"

"—and I am sorry that I left you alone all those years ago—"

"Long forgotten!"

"—and I am very sorry that we never had more time together—"

"Me too." Tears are pouring from my eyes.

"—that kiss was even better than our first." Ransley smiles wolfishly and I can't help but smirk and laugh.

"Also, Bella…" he can't seem to get a breath. "Bella, let yourself be happy. I hope Edward will make you as happy as I wanted to. He already seems to be doing a bloody good job. Do not ever let what Henry or the Volturi did drag you down.

"You were always better than both." His hand reaches for my cheek, and he caresses it one last time. I smile before he fades into the ether once more, his airy touch still feather light on my skin.

Darkness comes and the depression with it. Ransley is gone, and so is my last link to England. I do not think we will _ever_ meet again.

**A/n: Another stupid long wait and another stupid excuse. It was bloody difficult to write this chapter, there was so much I wanted out of it... I hope this delivered. Sorry again for the wait.**


	20. Familiar

**Familiar**

"Hello?" she asked. There was a tinge of worry to this woman's tone, and I wondered what could have caused it. I was no concern of hers. "This is private land, dear, I'm afraid I have to ask you to go now."

"Oh. I'm not causing a disturbance. Please? Can't you let me stay longer?" I pleaded. The ground here had become very comfortable in my stay.

She released a breath of relief. "That may be, but I need this space for my work," she replied.

"Oh."

A pause.

"I'll have to call the police eventually," she threatened.

"Property is theft," I mumbled under my breath. "What work are you doing?" I inquired.

"I'm running a painting class out here."

"Let me be your life model, then. Just let me stay here. _Please_."

She sighed. "It's not that kind of painting class, I'm afraid. It's landscape."

"This isn't much of a landscape; it's a meadow," I pointed out dryly.

Finally she snapped: "Look, I need you to go now, the class starts in half an hour and I want to set up. So can you just _go_ please?"

Clenching my eyes shut a moment, before opening them again; I turned to see the aging woman standing a few feet away. She was of a small stature, no more than five feet tall, with mousy brown hair and a pointy nose. I was sure she was a very nice lady, but at this moment in time all I could imagine was her murder. Why couldn't she just let me stay here? What did it cost her to take her class elsewhere?

She pulled a cell phone out of her jeans pocket and gave me a warning look. "I'll do it!" she said, her finger poised over the 9 button, ready to dial.

I brought myself to my feet and walked away from the annoying woman. She was fighting a smug grin as I turned my back, headed for the open fields. The shadows of the trees provided a cold cover as I moved through their leafy embrace. How long ago was it that I was dragged from this place to a miserable eternity in the underground of Volterra? A life of misguided notions and delusions of grandeur. A life just bearable before it was swiftly made _un_bearable by a certain someone's departure. I could hardly believe that I was being forced from that place, yet again, although it was by a slightly more benevolent character than those vampires with icy grips and vengeful eyes. Her small, brown ones were much more agreeable.

My phone rang as I found myself on the other side of the copse of trees. Briefly I contemplated not answering, but I knew that would only serve to upset my family.

"Hello?" I talked into the plastic handset.

"I'm sorry about her," Alice murmured sympathetically. "She only decided that would be the site of her lesson last night."

"I had no idea the land was owned by anyone," I replied dazedly.

Morning had arrived without my knowledge and the grass was wet under my feet with the dew. The position of the sun behind the dark clouds told me it was about seven in the morning. Who had a painting lesson at this time of day?

"Me neither." Ahead I could see a small village, sitting at the top of a gradual hill, its human inhabitants just waking up. Cows grazed and birds crowed in their nests in the tall trees dotted around. I fought the tears which threatened to fall, remembering that awful day once again. But at least now Ransley was at peace, I felt no obligation towards him any longer. There was no-one left from that time, nothing tying me here—finally.

It was both a freeing experience and a terrifying one. With England, there was always a sense of belonging I felt here; mainly that meadow. That was the only thing that had remained the same. Everywhere else I went back then; the pub in Edinburgh; Ember's home in Dunstable; my own home; the streets I walked as a human. All gone. Ransley's resting place seemed anchored in the landscape, and I wasn't sure whether that should be funny or frustrating. All of those other places I could remember with some fondness, but the colour of this memory is bleak and awful.

I supposed that figured, really.

A small bleep alerted me to the fact that Alice had closed the line. I pulled my phone away from my ear in shock, staring at the screen. Another beep threatened me with a low battery warning. Shutting my phone in resignation, I slipped it into my pocket and set my eyes on the village at the top of the hill. I knew Edward would be waiting there somewhere, and would undoubtedly come out to meet me.

The smell of rain filled my senses and I braced myself for the downpour, pulling myself inward to gather my warmth—or at least take the appearance of someone who had some to worry about.

The heavens opened.

It was eight o'clock by the time I reached the village and cars seemed to be leaving the place all at once in the directions of school and work. A small café was open on the main road, though, and I slipped inside there in seek of cover. Not that there was much point now; my clothes were dripping wet. I walked up to the counter and directed the woman there that I wanted a cup of tea. She in turn, with a kind smile, directed me to a seat by the radiator.

"Caught out?" she inquired with a chuckle. As quickly as someone who had years of practice in lying, I thought up a story to explain my presence here.

"Yes. I was on my way to a friend's house to walk to school, but her mum's car was already gone when I got there, and the house empty." She frowned, then, making the wrinkles in her forehead more pronounced.

"She doesn't sound like a very good friend." With that, she went behind the counter again and started to make my tea. "Where's your bag? Did you lose it?" she observed.

"I left it in my locker yesterday."

"I can get my husband to give you a lift to the school if you'd like?" she offered, her back still turned.

"Oh, no thank you, that's very kind but I think I'll give it a miss today. I don't think I can face school in this state." I forced a laugh.

At that point she returned with my tea and set it down in front of me. "Any milk? The sugar's just there if you want it." She gestured towards a cup on the table filled with sachets.

"No, thank you," I replied, just as a weathered old man came in from the cold and wet.

"Hi, Roy!" she said brightly. "Is it the usual?"

My phone bleeped with a text.

_Do you want me to sit with you?_

I speedily replied in affirmative and waited for him to arrive. Wrapping my hands around the mug helped somewhat to put something of humanity back in me. There was nothing more pleasant than this, feeling the heat radiate through the mug and escape in hot steam. I moved my face so that it was in the path of the hot air, warming my whole head and helping to dry the rain that was still clinging to my poreless skin.

A rush of wind and the scraping of a wooden chair against the lino-covered floor alerted me to his presence. The woman continued to make conversation with the elderly man and didn't seem to have noticed his entrance.

Edward's hand stretched across the table, palm up and beckoning. Slowly I removed my hand from around the mug and placed it in his. When our skin touched, it was with a certain sense of relief. He was now my only comfort in this place.

"I brought you some clothes from the house," he said, pulling a bag up from under the table and presenting it to me. Silently, I took the rustling plastic bag and investigated its contents. A simple blue top, a dark pair of jeans and a similar pair of sneakers to the ones I was already wearing. At least it was familiar. Edward released my hand as I stood to make my way into the café bathroom.

Locking the door behind me, I threw the bag down and stared into the mirror above the tiny sink. I was a shadow of myself, all horror and worry and remembrance. I wondered how the woman running the café had not called the police the second I stepped inside; I must be a better actor than I thought. I pushed my damp hair back from my face, attempting to untangle it in the process. That would have to wait until later.

I pulled at the skin under my eyes in a vain effort to take away the awful, purple lines ringing my eyes. Absently, I wondered why my eyes were suddenly so dark when I felt no struggle with my blood lust. Perhaps it was my anger against the lady who had moved me on. Perhaps it was the change in my state of mind?

Quickly, I took off the sopping clothing I wore and replaced it with the dry. I forced a smile in the mirror, and then began to tie my hair back with Ember's hair band. It was bad enough that all my friends were dead, I didn't have to look dead myself. I didn't have to _feel_ dead myself. In fact, I had to give the appearance of exactly the opposite, just to stay alive. Or maybe if I revealed my nature to someone human, Aro would just take me back into the fold and make me actually stay forever—or until someone overthrew the Volturi. Whichever came first.

But there was more than that to my life. I had the Cullens to think of, and _their_ vulnerability. Even when all I wanted to do was lie in that meadow and stare up at the sky, even when I felt as though there was nothing more for me—there was always the Cullens and what concerned _them_. I had left the Volturi to move on in my life and make a fresh start, _to right my wrongs_! I had found Ember again; I had met Carlisle and proven what I'd always known about him to myself, and I had made peace with Ransley from beyond the grave. I had done all of this and yet still this melancholy clung to me. But what was it that held me back?

A knock came at the door.

"Isabella?" Edward called through. Releasing my iron grip on the porcelain sink, I moved away from the mirror and took a calming breath. "Can I come in?" he asked.

_Yes_,I told him in my head. The lock unsnapped and he pushed the door open. He gave me a small smile as he stepped inside and locked the door behind him.

"How are you?" he asked gently. At that point, I couldn't stop the flood of tears that fell burning from my eyes. He took me into his arms and pulled me to his chest, pressing comforting kisses to the top of my head as I sobbed.

We both knew what was left.

**A/N: So this took a while, but again I must reiterate what I've already said on Through The Trees - I have school work to do. Thank you so much if you're still with me, though. It means a lot. :)**


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